Consequences, Choices part 2
by GuessWho-NopeGuessAgain
Summary: After Elizabeth (oc) lost her family to Moriarty she goes to live with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in 221B Bakerstreet. Life continues as normal, or as normal as it can be with all the cases and problems that arrive. Nothing is ever really normal again, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Warning! Graphic description of violence, angst, ect. Also some more domestic fluff.
1. Chapter 1 - Time for a holiday

_**Consequences - Choices part 2**_

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 **Summary:** After Elizabeth lost her family to Moriarty she goes to live with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in 221B Bakerstreet. Life continues as normal, or as normal as it can be with all the cases and problems that arrive. Nothing is ever really normal again.

 **A/N:** This is part two of Choices, and Consequences. It is still the same story and I hope you like it! Thanks for reading!

 **Warning:** Yet again, there will be a lot angst, probably some more grafic description of violence and a lot of other nasty stuff!

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 **Chapter 45**

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The next couple of weeks were exactly like she had expected, a lot of studying, stressing and comfort eating. Sherlock and John new beter to bother her during the long hours of studying. Unless they were bringing tea with some kind of sweet they were not welcome. The few precious moments of free time, she'd go out to walk around London, often seeing several other tired out students who greeted her with a sympathetic nod.

Sherlock had a little trouble wrapping his head around the stress. For him memorising an entire textbook was easy, and he didn't get that it made her want to slam her head into the wall rapidity. He had attempted to show her the way while she was studying her math exam. He ended up leaving her room like a scolding puppy with a red imprint on his arm that strangely resembled her math textbook. He never tried again.

John was a lot more understanding, he too had gone through quite a bit of studying in med school. Which didn't necessarily made him a better companion. He insisted she had it easy right now, that it would only be more difficult when she went to uni. That drove her equally crazy. Eventually she snapped and told him to back of and let her study.

Elizabeth realised that she was acting a little dramatic, but honestly those men were impossible to deal with. She wasn't the worst though, at a certain point Alex had called her in hysteria. He was certain he was going to kill his parents if they didn't just let him study his way. He was one of those people that studied by not studying. They procrastinate till the very end and then crammed it all in his head.

This might not have been the healthiest way of studying but it was effective for him. His parents however thought he had to start at least a month before the exam period, so when they found out that he hadn't really done anything the last couple of weeks they had started to stalk him like a hawk. Alex had taken refuge with her for a day, they had looked themselves in her room and studied till they dropped.

But now it was over. She had done her exams. Done moderately well on all of them, expect art history. But it was art history! She rather take a couple of extra hours studying math then art history. Sherlock whole heartily agreed though John held the opinion that everything they thought in school was important. But seeing as she hadn't failed, he didn't really care either.

Now she had a couple of day of free time. She decided to do exactly what you were supposed to do in your free time. Absolutely nothing. She read, slept, cooked and ate. A couple of times she did go to the movies with her friends but that was all. The only thing that she felt like really doing was listening to Sherlock's cases. They were all incredibly interesting. From the redhead who had been completely fouled to the lost treasure of Agra.

The detective was careful not to take any cases that would take too long because in a couple of days they would find themselves in Peru. The land of Alpaca and the Inca. Elizabeth couldn't wait to pack her bags and leave, but every time she thought about it her heart sank a bit. Normally she would have gone with her family, they would be here, exited with her. Her sister, her brother, her parents, all of them, but they weren't. All because of the son of a bitch Moriarty.

The anger that came with the wracking sadness never went away, and dulled. It wasn't uncommon for her to have dreams where she slit his throat, or put a bullet in his head the way she had done to poor Peter. Other times in her dreams she would hear her families screams as the car blew up, often accompanied with the scarping of metal and the insane laughter of the monster that had caused all this death. She swore to herself if she ever saw him again, she would end him herself.

However, for now he wasn't here and she was going on a trip of a life time. It had been her great surprise that Sherlock had never actually been on a plane before. John had when he went to the war, but Sherlock never had. His family had gone on several vacations but never with a plane. It was always a car, train or private helicopter. She didn't understand why you would ever take a helicopter if you could took a plane. Crazy Holmes family.

Finally the day had come, she had packed herself a backpack and to Sherlock frustration tied a bright blue ribbon to it. "That is completely unnecessary. Why would you tie something like that to it? The only thing it can do is get stuck." Baffled by his ignorance she hadn't graced him with an answer. He'd figure it out soon enough. To her amusement he had the most common of backpacks with him, one that would blend in within seconds. Idiot.

A small hour later they were standing in front of the airport, she quickly hurried to the check in. Elizabeth had done this several time before and new her way in an airport, and they had no trouble letting her lead the way. Normally checking in isn't a big problem, you give them the papers, they scan everything. You give them the bags, they load the bags in. Nothing to difficult, but nothing is ever easy with Sherlock.

The second they were in the line troubles began, the man didn't like standing in a line. Though he had shown extreme patients during his case, sometimes sitting painstakingly still for hours on end just to catch a glimpse of someone, waiting 30 minutes in a line was too much. He also didn't mind being vocal about it.

It worked on everyone's nervouse, including the other tourist, at a certain point a moody teen turned around. "Would you shut up! Everyone has to wait! It is only 30 minutes!" The kid ended up with blushing, his cheeks the colour of fire, and his mother yelling at Sherlock for stalking her kid. Luckily most of the security knew him and they didn't get into any trouble.

As if it could have gotten any worse, they had gotten to the security. Something had gone off and they needed to pat her down. The second they had waved her over Sherlock had gotten tense, keeping his eye on her. Apparently they though she had something in her oversized sweater or maybe in the incredibly loose yoga pants because they asked her to come to the private room for a proper pat down. Of course something like that would happen to that.

Though she didn't look forward to it, Elizabeth didn't object. Sherlock was another story however. The second they mentioned it he sprang into action, telling them to leave her alone and not to touch her. This of course only raised suspicions and made them more adamant on taking her in, maybe even taking Sherlock and John with her.

Luckily John was able to calm him down while she promised she'd be fine. He allowed them to take her away but swore that if there was as much of a scratch on her he would make them pay. The pad down was quick, she didn't think it would take that long but once she had taken of her shirt all of the employees had been shocked. The long thin scars on her back, the raw letters on her stomach, the deep burn on her thigh, it was enough to shock anyone. They didn't make her take of her underwear.

To be honest she was a little shaken up about it. She hadn't gotten used to people's reactions to her scars. A lot of people had seen them by now, in changing rooms and swimming pools but to put them on display like this felt different. Elizabeth was just happy they hadn't touched them. Only her friends and family had been allowed to touch the old wounds. She remembered her brother's soft touch as he rang his finger over the whip marks, the horrified expression on his face as she recounted what had happened. He had even counted to see if there were 20 of them. There had been.

But now the hard part was over. After a couple of hard glares of the detective and a quick apology of the airport staff they were on their way to the terminal. She couldn't supress a tiny smile when she noticed that John to had given them a hard stare, of course those poor people had no way of knowing that she had had those scars but it felt nice to know they cared.

The wait wasn't a long one, after 20 minutes everyone started to board the plane. She had already planned out what she would do. First she would watch Wonder Woman, next Alien, then Guardian of the Galaxy 2 and finally King Kong. In between those bathroom breaks, and eating. John had his book and decided to read and sleep. She was a little worried about Sherlock, he would have to sit in a plane for 12 hours and not drive everyone completely crazy.

She wasn't sure if he could stay concentrated on movies for 12 hours. Therefor she had bought him a gift. As the detective buckled up she hadn't him a pack of gum and an USB stick. "The gum is for the take-off, the stick is for during the flight. Pop it the laptop when you get bored and enjoy." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I know you Sherlock. I just hope these will keep you busy for an hour, two if I am lucky."

"Thanks. I guess." She patted him on his hand and slipped her headphones in her ear. The plane took off smoothly and she allowed her to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as you can get in an economy flight. She was about a halfway through her second movie when Sherlock pulled up his computer. She continued to glance to Sherlock.

Once he opened and loaded the file he smiled slightly. "Really?" "Yes really. It took me a lot of time to find these and write them down, so you better appreciate it." He reached over and ruffled her hair. "Don't! It makes me feel like a little kid." "You are!" "I am not!" "You are a kid!" "Not a little kid!" John laughed slightly at them.

With a fake frown she turned back to her movie. They continued to watch the movie while Sherlock typed on the computer. The stick had been full of riddles and intricate math problems. For a normal people it would take at least 18 hours, for Sherlock maybe 2 hours. By the time their lunch had come Sherlock had finished the flash. To her surprise it had taken him 3 hours. Apparently the flight was taking some of his concentration, maybe they might just survive the flight.

After lunch Sherlock watched a movie, to her surprise it was King Kong. Even for her the movie was a brainless one but good did she enjoy it. It was fucking badass, but it seemed he was more interested in her reaction to the movie then to the movie herself. "Surely you know how this movie is going to end?" "Of course I do! That doesn't make it any more badass! It is a movie about monsters fighting each other! It doesn't have to be complex and deep, it just needs to have a good sound track and awesome effects.

Though Sherlock rolled his eyes at her replay he did continue watching, and to her satisfaction he seemed to be actually really invested in the movie. However after the movie he started to act up. He was incredibly bored, started bouncing on the chair, staring at the fellow passengers. She was pretty certain that he was about to bother several more people when John tossed him another stick. "Have at it."

With a wide grin the detective started on his new list of puzzles.

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 **Chapter 46**

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Elizabeth couldn't help but feel incredibly great full when Sherlock decided the best us of the remaining 5 hours was to sleep. It would make sure he was well rested and equipped for the rest of the trip. With other words, he wouldn't be a problem for the rest of the flight. John stayed relatively calm through the day, the rest of the time she just watched TV and ate chocolate. Nice and comfortable.

Though she enjoyed the down time, she had to admit that getting out that cramp seat and stretch her legs felt heavenly. Sherlock was incredibly annoyed when he had to wake up and go to another line to wait. He was about to start complaining but John stopped him by slapping him on the back of the head.

"Don't Sherlock. Don't." when they went and got their taxi it didn't go well. The man let out a frustrated grunt. The car was small, dirty and the traffic was horrible, and the detective had developed a horrible kink, his leg was twitching the entire time. "Only a little while longer Sherlock. We are almost in the hotel." "At this pace we won't be in the hotel for another hour." "Just relax."

He let out a long growl. "I have been stuck in a plane for 12 hours and now I am going to be stuck in this car for another hour. It stinks here! I am incredibly bored and want to fucking leave!" "This is what happens when you travel Sherlock, traffic and trouble." "This has never been a problem in with me before." "That is because you go on extremely expensive vacations to Venice, Athene, Morocco, Paris and all the other fancy little places. This is Peru! It is still a little rough around the edges it can't always go like plan."

Sherlock let out a loud grunt and turned away from them. A little more than an hour later they arrived in the hotel, or more a youth hostel. It looked better on the photos. It was colourful and a little dusty, but the beds were comfortable and the shower was warm. Even Sherlock calmed down after the shower. They next two days were very calm, adjusting to everything and have a tour of the city. They went to get food and took a couple of walks.

They had been terrified that Sherlock would act like an annoying brat because of the boringness, but he actually found a couple of things to do. He decided to learn Spanish, not using books or lessons, but by sitting in café shops and listening to people. After an hour he started to ask questions, it was interesting to watch. He never talked to strangers, and now he was looking for them.

The trip was very interesting too. The man had read a lot of books about Peru and insisted on correcting everything the poor woman said. Though she took it as a sport, listening to what he said. John made sure to tip her generously. The last day they took a walk along the sea side she noticed the people parasailing. An acute interest sparked her, she stood there for a little while watching. Sherlock joined her.

"You want to go, don't you?" Elizabeth nodded. "Desperately." "So why don't you?" "I am not sure." Blinking a couple more times she took a deep breath. "You know what. I think I will go." "Atta girl." Elizabeth gripped his wrist before he could ruffle her hair. "Don't."

"You want to come to?" "I don't think so." "You sure? It is going to be a lot of fun." "Nah I am good." "Are you a little scared?" "I am not scared." "Then why won't you come?" it was funny to see him stumped. "Okay, then come." "Okay, fine. But we are going to get John to come as well." "Brilliant idea." To her surprise John was very happy to come along. "A thrill like this, I couldn't miss out on that now could I?"

The thrill that ran through her body when she was strapped into her gear. The woman behind her was reassuring that everything was safe but she honestly just wanted to jump of a cliff. "Ready?" "Hell yeah!" "Okay, let us do this." They ran forward and they jumped out of the rocks. Elizabeth smiled when she heard an undignified squeal coming from John. Jumping off a cliff wasn't exactly the same as going to war.

For her the feeling of soaring through the air was the most liberating feeling she had ever felt in a long time. By the looks of it Sherlock would agree with her, while normally there was always something racing behind his eyes, he looked incredibly calm now. He stayed that way for the rest of the day. It wasn't till they spend the next hour or so on a plane to go to Arequipa.

In Arequipa they mostly hang out, not particularly a lot you can do in Arequipa except sightseeing. The only special thing they did was going to El Misti, a massive active volcano close to them. It was a two day trip, one day upwards, one day down. At the top of the volcano they camped and started a campfire. Elizabeth had brought marshmallows and they were making smores. That night they had to snuggle together, they only had one tent and it was rather cramped.

She was the first to wake up and found herself wrapped stuck between the two men. Sherlock was on her right but he had rolled over and was practically laying on top of her. His face was in the crook of her neck and his entire left side was on top of her. John was on her left side and had wrapped his arms around her. She couldn't move without waking either of them up, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was, with Sherlock draped over her and John facing her, their faces were inches apart. She giggled slightly, which was enough to wake Sherlock up.

She groaned slightly when he shifted, pressing down on her lungs. "Sherlock. Stop moving." The detective opened his eyes sleepily before stilling completely when he noticed how close he was to his friend. "Shit!" the man leaped up and pressed down on her stomach. John wake up with a start accidently pulling her closer into him, but she didn't have enough space to really move. This left all of them in a heap of arms and legs, and not enough breathe. "Okay everyone stop moving! Is everyone okay?"

They all nodded. "Okay then get out. I want to get dressed." They walked downstairs and left for their next stop. Cuzco. To be honest she hadn't been impressed with the Peruvian cities. The nature was so beautiful and certain old building were very impressive but the normal houses and restaurants didn't look good at all.

Cuzco however was fantastic, it felt authentic and there was still a lot of culture to explore. But they had been sitting in the car for way to long so she decided to take a shower while Sherlock and John went to find their restaurant. She let out a sigh when the temperature finally reached the sweet spot.

A shower like this really made her feel amazing, any stress she still had from the trip dropped off from her. But when did she ever get a moment for calm? A loud knock came from the hotel door. "Sherlock! I am in the shower! Just use the damn keys! That is what they are for!" the knocking didn't stop however. "Did you forget them?" When the knocking continued she let out a frustrated groan and grabbed her towel. "Dear god Sherlock! I told you to take them with you."

She swung the door open. "Who the fuck are? She couldn't even finish her sentence before the strangers advanced. There were three of them, and the two men in front of her were the most dangerous ones. They were both at least a head taller than her and they were ripped. They were dressed in camouflage and had hats that looked rather a lot like barrette but less nice.

They had the standard military haircut and they looked like they would be able to kill her with their pinkies. The man standing behind them was a lot less big and intimidating. His hairline was receding, was a little on the chubby side and had wrinkles around his eyes. His glasses seemed too big for his head and had golden casing. Yeah, definitely not a threat, but definitely in charge.

"Get out. Now." she growled at them. The little man raised his eyebrow and then waved his hand. Within seconds one of the men leaped onto her, grabbing her around her waist. He clearly thought that would be enough as he simply stayed put, his arm was pressing painfully into her stomach as he kept her feet from touching the ground. Fuck that though. She started struggling by pressing against his arm before going completely slack. This caught him by surprise which made him loosen his grip just enough.

She slipped from his grasps and kicked him in his shines. With them distracted she leaped into the bathroom and locked the door. The door handle shook for a little while before a quick command stopped it. The men settled down in her room. Now what? She looked around the room to find something to help her out. Her phone! Thank god for her addiction.

Her clothes were in the other room but there was a bathrobe which she slipped on quickly as she dialled Sherlock's number. "Hey Elizabeth, are you okay?" "No. There are three strange men in our rooms. Two bodyguards and a small man. The two are incredibly strong and I am pretty sure I saw two semiautomatic handguns for both and they have knives. I locked myself in the bathroom, and I don't know what to do."

"Okay Elizabeth we are on our way. Do you have any kind of weapons?" she heard John gasp in the background. "No. I am in the bathroom not the fucking kitchen!" "Do you have a mirror?" "Yes." "Then you have weapon." "Oh. Oh okay! Fantastic! Wait!" she wrapped her hand in a towel, before placing a towel underneath the mirror.

She slammed her fist into the mirror and picked up particularly sharp shard. "I have a weapon." "Are they trying to enter?" "No, I think they don't care about me. Be careful." "We are almost here." "Hurry." Her voice had gone a lot quieter then before, she was a little scared. The moment the man had grabbed her, with only a towel between them. Being pressed against a stranger's body, his warm breath tickling her ear, it terrified her slightly. The memories of what Moriarty had done to her, had resurfaced for a second.

"Stay calm Elizabeth. No one is going to hurt you. We are a minute out." He sounded a little out of breathe, it sounded like they were running. "Don't worry about it." She paced up and down the bathroom floor fixing her robe, trying to stay calm. What would they do now?

She stopped when she heard the door slam open again. "Get out or we'll shoot you." She smiled as she heard Johns commanding voice. "Mr Holmes I assume." "No. That would be me. However I fully agree with my friend. If you don't leave right now, we will put a bullet in you."

"Mr Holmes I would like to." "I don't care what you want. Get. Out." She heard the feint clicking of a gun. "Show him some respect. Do you even know who he is?" "I know. I don't care. Now. LEAVE!" "Mr Holmes I must insist." "Give me one good reason not to kill you right now." "Mr Holmes! I am." "I don't care! You broke into our hotel room! You assaulted my friend! You attacked her! And now I am really losing my patience with you!"

"You won't kill me because I am interesting." The man's voice, though already quite high, had gone even higher. "You'll have to do better than that." "Uhm. If you don't take my case, countless people will die."

Realising that Sherlock's anger might not let him see reason she pushed the door open. The sight amused her but didn't surprise her. Sherlock had his gun pointed at the small man who had made himself comfortable on her bed. John was holding two guns, both pointed at the bodyguards. Those two had pointed her gun to her companies but they didn't seem to care.

Especially not since those two kept glancing at the little cowardly man who had a gun pressed against his temple. Sherlock and John kept their eyes on their targets but their body language changed slightly. "Are you okay?" "I am okay. Thank you for getting here so soon." "Yes, thank you for your hurry." "Shut. Up. Vladimiro. I am really having a hard time not pulling the trigger."

She glanced at the man, though he was cowering he still had a certain sense of bravo. "Did they touch you?" "Not really." "Not really?" "I mean, that one grabbed me but I slipped from his grip." She said gesturing to her attacker. Johns hand tightened slightly on the gun pointing towards him. "But. I think we should listen to them." "I am sorry?" "Countless of lives Sherlock." "That depends on how many people he can count." John growled. "I am serious."

"Fine. Get out so my friend can get dressed and we can discuss what to do with you." "Please listen." "NO YOU LISTEN! GET OUT OF THIS ROOM BEFORE I SHOOT YOU AND CALL THE POLICE!" at the sudden outburst made all 3 of them jumped up and shuffled away. The second they were going they turned to Elizabeth. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" "I am okay Sherlock. Just a little shaken up."

He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll get dressed. After that mind telling us who those men were." She made a quick job of getting dressed and within a minute she was sitting on her bed waiting for an answer. Before they could start however a knock filled the room. Irritated John swung open the door, the small man stood slightly behind his bodyguards.

"We don't have all day the time." His voice sounded annoyed and demanding of respect and the second he uttered that sentence she saw Johns body tense. "Neither do we. We have a dinner reservation to get to." She smiled as he slammed the door in their face.

"Who is he Sherlock? You called him Vladimiro." "Yes. Vladimiro Montesinos. He used to be head of the SIN, Servicio de Inteligencia Nacional. The secret intelligence service of Peru. But it was shut down when he was caught taking bribes. He is a dangerous man, even if he doesn't look like much." "You just pointed a gun at his head." "Of course I did."

"So what do we think he wants with you?" "I honestly have no clue John. I don't keep updated on Peruvian politics and news." "So what do you want to do with him?" she was surprised when both of them turned to her. "Why me?" "Because he hurt you." "He didn't." "He would have." "I think we should talk to him." they nodded before going back to the door.

"We are ready for you now." with a huff the man walked inside. "Talk." "First of all, I am Vladimiro Mon." "We know who you are. Now tell us what you want before we grow bored." The man opened his mouth again to speak but John interrupted him. "Oh. And apologise to Elizabeth." "I definitely will not." "If you don't apologise to her I will kick you out again."

"I will not apologise to some child." "Get out!" "No." "Get out!" "Fine! Fine! I am sorry for scary Mrs Elizabeth." She nodded in recognition. "So start talking."

"If you know who I am, then you know why I was fired. But that story isn't the entire truth. The stories about me are true. I did controle the media, I did bribe people, I blackmailed people, I was involved in drug trafficking, I was hurt people and tortured people. All of those things are true, but they are not that simple. I did not do any of these things because I was forced to."

Sherlock raised his eyebrow. "Continue." "The president of that time was President Alberto Fujimori and he desperately wanted to stay in power. He would do anything to stay in power and deceived many people around him to do so. Including me. I believed him. I believed he would bring Peru to a golden age, that he could make us as powerful as Amerika or Russia. I believed he was Peru's one true chance.

Until I stopped believing in him. I found out who he was. I found out what he was and I wanted to stop him. But it was too late, he had enough evidence of what I had done to blackmail me into doing his bidding. And the more I did, the more I did the more he had on me. I didn't know what to do with myself, so I just obeyed. Until finally he was stopped, he finally got caught.

The SIN was dismantled, and he was kicked for his power position and eventually incarcerated for his horrible acts. But the problem didn't end there. So many people still follow him, they still believe in him. They thought he was a hero and that they did the right thing. Some of those people are people in power. A new organization has grown to power, it is secret and nobody really has proof that it exists but it does.

I have reason to believe that their next move will hurt if not kill thousands of people. It is called VPLG, or Verdad Para La Gente." "Truth for the people." "Exactly mister Holmes. This organisation is probably run by Veronika Mendoza. She ran for president in 2016 but didn't win, not even with the support of the VPLG, but she has been in the congress for a long time. She shared her believes with Alberto. When he was thrown into prison she started to talk with a lot of people but that didn't go well.

So she started to do it in secret. The organization has a lot people in a lot of powerful positions." "You said that already." "Yes, but they are planning something." "What?" "We don't know. That is why we need you. They have grown more active and we had a person on the inside who told us what we needed to know. But we found her dead a day ago."

"Why don't you just talk to your friends up high?" "I don't expect you to understand little girl. But I don't have them anymore." "Oh right, because of every horrible thing that you did and helped him do." "It was under duress. But anyway, I can't tell anyone. No one will ever believe me without any evidence. And I don't have anything with my inside woman. We need you to find out what they are planning to do."

A tingle had gotten into the detectives eyes and John was leaning forward with interest. "If you accept this mission you will be in immense danger, and might not survive. But you could save the people of Peru." "A very tempting offer." Sighed Sherlock. "Elizabeth." "I think we should do it." Wait a second. This offer is only for Mr Holmes and Mr Watson, I only allowed you to hear because I fear they would not listen to me." "We are a package deal. I suggest you take it."

"She is a child!" "She is a part of the team. I suggest you show her some respect." The man seemed to be ready to explode. "Fine. I will give you everything we have, nothing will be kept from you." They gave them a stick and prepared to leave. Just before he closed the door Vladimiro stopped. "Good luck gentlemen, miss. You will most definitely need it.

* * *

 **Chapter 47**

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Curiously Elizabeth picked up the stick and put it into the computer. It was loaded to the brim with secret information. They spend the rest of the night reading through it, and setting up a board of information. They didn't know that much and most of it was speculative, greatly to Sherlock's frustration, but it was better than nothing.

"What do you want to do Sherlock?" I think we can't really do anything tonight but we should get on the first flight back to Lima tomorrow so we can go talk with a couple people. She had to agree, all the reading she was a little tired. They crawled into bed and fell back asleep.

The next day they were back on their way to Lima. It kind of sucked that they couldn't just enjoy a normal vacation. There went the night on Lake Titti Cacca, there went their 4 day track to Machu Pichhu! Everything just went to hell when she went anywhere with these two! But what the hell! Time to save Peru I guess?

John picked up on her mood and tapped her on her shoulder. "I know. Something always comes up." They went back into their previous hotel and while Elizabeth and John unpacked Sherlock disappeared without a word of explanation. "Where do you think he is up to?" "No clue. Probably saw a lead we didn't." Luckily it didn't stay a mystery for very long as Sherlock was back after two hours. And he had brought them lunch.

"What where you doing." "Setting up a network." He answered between bites of his sandwich. "What network?" "You know how I have the Homeless network in London." "Yeah." "I made some investments here too. People on the streets always no more than they let on." "Did you find out anything?" "No not yet, but they will report to me tonight with what they know and found out."

She had to admit it was impressive to seem him starting on such a difficult case with such confidence. It honestly made her think that he could do anything, which was probably true. If he put his mind to it he could probably cheat death.

"So what do you want us to do now?" John inquired. "I need you to be quiet, I am going to set up a whole different room for this case and everything relevant to it in my mind palace." "Good idea. We should do that to." John glanced at her in confusion. "You have a mind palace?" "I wish! No, we should probably make a board or something. A visual aid so we can see what we know." "Okay. But just don't make any noise while doing so."

She rolled her eyes but didn't retort. They shared a room with each other so John and she would have to work in relative silence. "I'll get us some materials." "And I'll start writing down what we know." By the time John had returned Elizabeth had already written down half of the information in bulletin points and colourful pens. Now all they had to do was stick them to the giant piece of carton John had brought with him and connect the dots.

They worked quickly and efficiently, whispering little commands and remarks to each other. From time to time Sherlock would mumble something in coherent as he too worked with all the information he had. Afterwards they would be able to fill each other in on the things they missed. Though Elizabeth suspected Sherlock would do most of the filling in. After 2 hours and a bit Sherlock was done and helped them with the last details.

"What do you think Detective?" "Pretty good. Though there are some things you missed." "Enlighten us then."

"Okay so you got most of it right. We know that Vladimiro Montesinos was the Captain of the Peruvian Army for a long time that is probably where he got a lot of his ties. He became the chief advisor later on and got a lot of power. He started an entire corruption organisation that controlled the media, the politic elections, the trade and everything else. He tortured people that ran against Alberto Fujimori. He had wires everywhere and got as much money as possible.

He travel to USA, Washington D.C. without any legal papers and under false pretences. No one really knows why he was really there, but he ended up 2 years in jail for that. He ran away to Ecuador to try to escape that sentence but that failed. We also know he had ties with several terrorist groups, including with his cousin Oscar Ramirez Durand who was a known terrorist. Also with the Death Squad, which he organised. Those people killed 15 innocent civilians.

The Death Squad a.k.a. Grupo Colina did the Barrios Altos massacre in an attempt to stop the Shining Path." "Yes, we know." "However, the Barrios Altos massacre was false. Though they did kill all these people but it wasn't to stop the Shining Path as the government said. You see the Shining Path is the only real reason that Alberto Fujimori became president. People were desperate, or at least some of them.

With some of the poor people the Shining Path seemed the right path. Anyway, the Shining Path allowed Alberto Fujimori to become president and allowed him to get more power as people became more president, so of course he didn't want them gone.

But he did have to do something, so he pretended to stop them through several horrible means. Almost all of them acts against human right. Including the Barrios Altos Massacre."

"Yes." Elizabeth interrupted. "But then everything went to shit for him, didn't it? I mean, that massacre was the last straw for the rest of the world. They wanted to get president Fujimori in prison. He had done horrible things as a president from." She quickly checked the board. "From 1990 to 2000. He ran off to Japan but they managed to get him into prison. However with him gone now people started to actual do something against the Shining Path, so of course they want someone like Fujimori back in power."

"Exactly. When I went out in the streets of Lima to talk to the people I heard a lot of different opinions. But there are still people who secretly support the Shining Path. They think that the current people in power will never stop anything to help them. The Shining Path claim that they want to start a communist again, which the poor people think is better."

John nodded in agreement. "So what does Mrs Mercedes Araoz factor into this?" Sherlock smiled knowingly. "She was the Minister of Foreign Trade and Tourism in 2006 and 2009. In 2007 there was an earth quake, and the tourist went downhill fast. So did the economy. Which only made the people believe even more that the current government sucked. Then in 2009 there was a huge political crisis. There were uprisings and attacks. Deaths on both sides. The protesters were the AIDESEP, these people said that they were protecting the rainforest.

Which was in part true, the original people who started the AIDESEP were fighting for the rainforest. They didn't know however that former members of the Shining Path were piggybacking on their mission. The government killed a lot of people during the uprising and pissed a lot of people of. Again the economy and tourism went downhill, which of course frustrated Mercedes Araoz.

She was angry and had power, perfect for the Shining Path. Now she is congresswoman and has an incredible influence in the world."

"Okay so she is most likely the person that the Shining Path has on the inside." John summoned up. "Wait something doesn't make sense." "Yeah, didn't she run for president but withdrew?" "Yes." Sherlock agreed. "Why?" "I am not entirely sure yet." "Okay, so what about Keiko Fujimori? Is she part of them?" "I highly doubt it Elizabeth." "But she is Alberto's daughter! She defended him! She was first lady underneath her!"

"Yes, but that isn't the entire story. I think that her father corrupted her in a similar way as he corrupted Vladimiro. He had of blackmailing material on her too, especially with the Odebrecht scandal. Plus there are several reports that she was tortured several times in 2001, after her father stopped being president and ran to Japan. I think she might have wanted to tell everyone what had happened but he stopped that from happening."

"You think she might be trying to stop him." "Exactly. She tried to become president twice, once in 2011 and once in 2016. Both times she lost, the second time under rather impossible circumstances…"

"But what does the Shining Path want to do?" "That is what we have to figure it out. All Vladimiro Montesinos knows is that it has something with a new protest group called the VPLG. It is a group that Mrs Araoz fully supports, their official plan is to stop the oil export till the Amazon is going to stay safe. Lots of people support them, including a lot of local tribes. Though he has a lot of evidence supporting that in reality they plan to blow the mines up."

"What will that do?" "Well for starters it will cause a lot of panic. Plus both parties will start to fight and there will be another uprising." Elizabeth raised his eyebrow. "You seem to know exactly what is going to happen." "Well, there is still a lot of evidence that that isn't the only thing they want to do. We don't know now what it is, only that it will most likely end Peru as we know it." "Well shit."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you liked this chapter! I really wanted to write my own case, so we will so how this goes. Will they save Peru? Will it be interesting? Will it be boring? No one knows. Not even me. Please leave me a review with feedback or any comments you have! Love you lots


	2. Chapter 2 - Time to save Peru

**Chapter 48**

* * *

"Okay. So what are we going to do now? How are we going to do this?" "I am not entirely sure yet. There are too many variables to make any real decisions yet. I am going to wait till the kids get here." When Elizabeth frowned, Sherlock sighed. "The homeless kids. The ones I talked today." "Oh. They are kids?" "Of course they are." This seemed to confuse John just as much as it did Elizabeth.

"What do you mean of course? I mean I always figured you choose the kids because they need the help the most." Sherlock chuckled dryly. "No John, there is no cute human reason behind this. You should know that by now, I don't do human. Kids are less suspicious, people feel bad for them, and they want to do something to help them. But they don't, so they feel bad about them. So they don't make eye contact with them."

"So they don't pay attention to the kids when they are talking about stuff that they shouldn't be talking about." John said, even Elizabeth could see the disappointment running through him. "You think I should do it for other reason." John nodded slightly. "Oh come on Watson! You know me better than that!" "But I had thought you had changed. Even a little bit…"

"People don't change, John." "Yeah they do." Elizabeth watched John stomp out of the room and Sherlock dropped down on the bed. "I'll go talk to him." "You don't have to Liz. He will never really get it." "No, you never really get it Sherlock." She got up and followed John outside.

"John wait." "It is nothing Elizabeth. I just need a second." "And you can have that second after we talked a little." "Come on, Elizabeth! It must bother you to!" "You know that not everything he says is what he means!" she retorted when she finally caught up with him. "Don't lie to yourself!" She grabbed his arm and turned him around.

"No, don't lie to yourself John. You know that he can't admit to himself when he does something kind. That isn't his way, he isn't used to it." John was about to argue but she stopped him. "You know it is true John. You have seen him change in the last couple of years. The stories you told me about him, when you just moved in and the way he acts now. It is like two complete different people."

John sighed. "John? You know it is true." "Fine! Yes! Sherlock has changed. So what? He is still such a." "An ass. I know. He is ridicules, he doesn't think about what he says, he is insensitive and hurts everyone he talks to. But he is trying, and you cutting him off like that doesn't help him in any way." "I know." He puffed. "You are like two brothers, sweethearts. Thick as thieves and constantly annoyed by each other." "Does that make you our mother?" "In this analogy, yes, yes I am our mother. Now you and your brother go, make up."

She grinned slightly as she walked away, patting him on the shoulder as she left him alone in the hallway. She was on her way down to the lobby and heard a man scream in frustration. The teen looked around the corner and saw that the lobby was overrun by a group of street children. The first thing she noticed is how incredibly young they were, some of the kids were accompanied by older one.

She wasn't an expert but she was pretty sure that Sherlock didn't need so many of these kids. Especially the youngest once, they weren't exactly that useful. "¡salí! Vete a la mierda!" She wasn't entirely sure what the hotel manager was saying but it probably wasn't all that good. Elizabeth was about to go back to the room to find Sherlock, but the tall man was already on his way down.

He stopped at the top of the stairs with an aura of authority. He had put on his long coat, it whipped around her legs. His coat side was turned upwards, the black hair styled nicely, his cheekbones prominent. "Stop!" he said loudly. Immediately the entire room fell silent and everyone turned to him. "¿dije que todos ustedes podrían entrar? (Did I say all of you could enter?)" There was a collective no as all of the kids shook their heads.

"Aquellos a los que les dije podían ingresar a la estancia, el resto esperar afuera. (Those who told could enter stay, the rest, wait outside." Almost all of them left the room, only a hand full of kids waited for in the lobby. "Ven. (Come.)" She followed the kids and Sherlock upstairs, into their rooms. The lobbyist came to protest but Sherlock shoved some money and a note in his hand and he left them alone.

She glanced curiously at Sherlock's back as he rubbed a passing child's hair like he so often did to her. Once they got in, they all sat down on the floor and beds. John was pressed against the furthest wall in surprise as he stared at the kids in wonder. She joined him at his side. "That is a lot of kids." "Not even half of them. The rest of them are outside." "Does he need so many?" "I don't think so." she smiled knowingly and John rolled his eyes.

They watched Sherlock talk with the kids, not really understanding what they were saying seeing as they were speaking in Spanish. In the beginning they all seemed very serious and a little worried but slowly the kids started to relax. Suddenly all of the kids burst out laughing and Sherlock's cheeks went a little red, they all kept repeating the same word over and over again. "What happened?" "No clue."

Sherlock managed to calm them down a little before quickly turning to them. "I misspoke." He said quickly before returning to the conversation with the kids. 10 minutes later a soft nock came from the door. The hotel manager came in with a stack of pizzas. Sherlock took a couple of them and gave a quick command to him and he left.

All the kids looked expectantly at him, hungrily and hopeful. Sherlock handed a box to every kid and they looked at it like it was pure gold before digging into their hot meal. "Now he definitely didn't have to do this." Elizabeth grinned at John. Once all of them had eaten their food they let them out of the room, on their way out he gave them all some money. "He definitely didn't have to do that." "You made your point Elizabeth." Groaned John.

He stepped away from her towards Sherlock as the kids drowned out of the room. "What did you find out?" "Everything we already knew and then a couple of other things." "Don't keep us waiting." "A lot of the kids said the same things. The rumours are that a secret organisation has risen up." "Probably the VPLG." "Probably. Apparently most of the kids heard that it had something to do with trade centre and such. They plan to manipulate the people through the news. Make the rest of the world look evil, break bonds. Something like that anyway."

"What do you mean something like that?" "I mean, Elizabeth, that all the kids are saying similar things but not exactly." "So what do they say?" "A group of kids said that it would be with the news. They said that they would give small lies to manipulate the people. Other say that it will be more direct. They said that there are several whispers about the trade going wrong, things are disappearing, not arriving correctly."

"Why do they want to cut everyone of from the rest of the world? What good would that do?" "If they think that the rest of the world has turned themselves on Peru, they will feel isolated. A country that feels isolated, feels afraid. Then all they have to do is make people believe that their government is turning on them too, they will revolt. All you need is a right word here and there and everything goes to shit.

And when people are scared and panicking then normally they will grab for stability. The president before this was Alberto, and he still has a following."

"But he is in prison. How are they going to get him out?" "When the land is in chaos, the people in power will want everyone to calm down as well. If everyone demands our dear Alberto, they will get him." Sherlock smiled happily. "I still think that it is a little farfetched." Elizabeth frowned. "And self-destructive." Added the doctor.

"And that is the exact reason why people will never think that is actually really happened. It will be a conspiracy of course, but it will be nothing more." Sherlock looked very pleased with his 'discovery'. "Okay, even if this is true." "It is." "Okay, that doesn't really get us anywhere does it? We don't have any details." "Ah! I am not done yet!"

John raised an eyebrow. "Okay, tell us the rest." "There were two things that all the kids agreed on. A date and a name." He paused, god damn it he really loved to play a drama queen sometimes. "Spit it out." "Everyone says to stay of the streets the 30st of August." "And the name Sherlock?" "Eduardo Ferreyros Küppers. He is part of congress, the minister of Foreign Trade and Tourism. In 2007 however that was our dear friend Mercedes Araoz. She was his boss back then and during that time they helped cement the Free trade agreement between a heaps of countries. Including the European Union, Canada, Mexico, and China, all very influential. All very important."

"You think she is connected?" Elizabeth sounded rather sceptical. "I know she is. People on the streets know more than anyone ever knows. They have to know things to survive on the streets, otherwise they have no security. If they say that Mr Eduardo Küppers is part of the organisation then it is true. Trust me." "How the fuck do you know all of this?" John glanced at her quickly. "I lived on the streets a while." "What? How did that?"

Sherlock looked down and John shook his head, okay, not something up for conversation. "Okay, so if this is true. What do we do? Tell Vladimiro?" "No. Not a good idea. I am not entirely sure that we can trust him. Or at least the people who are part of his team. This runs up high, a lot of people are involved and the chance that Vladimiro tells the wrong person is too high."

"Okay so what do we do?" John asked, slightly frustrated. "We have to get to the parliament one way or the other. I'll have the kids come here from time to time when they find something. But other than that the only thing we can do is infiltrate."

Elizabeth let out a wicked grin. "You mean, we get to play spy!" "That is exactly what it means." She raised her hand for a high five but the two men rolled their eyes at her and walked away. Leaving her hanging. "Oh come on!" "We are getting dinner. If you want food put down your hand and come with us!" "Please! Just one high five! One!" "Put it down or you have to stay in the hotel! Order some more pizza!" "Fine!" with a smile she lowered her hand and skipped after the two men.

They walked through the city and from time to time she recognized a small face scuttling in the streets. It felt weird to walk through richer parts of the neighbourhood when you had seen so many kids in poverty who lived in the streets. "I wish there was something more we could do for these kids." John placed his hand on her shoulder. "Me too Elizabeth." "Can't we?" "What?" "Do something more John. Isn't there anything we can do? I mean we have money, they need it!"

"She has a point." "I know Sherlock, but what would we do? Give money to charity?" "No something more direct. Like we did today, actually make a direct change." "What are you suggesting?" "I don't know? Property in Peru isn't that expensive is it?"

"You want to buy a house?" John actually stopped when he said that. "I don't know. Maybe? A place where they can sleep at night without having to keep on eye open. Where they can take a warm shower, where they can be safe." "The people we would need to run something like that." "It isn't impossible." Sherlock added. "It would help them, if they looked presentable they probably have a bigger chance of getting a job or an education." "But Sherlock. You have to stay reasonable." "I am John. Maybe we can't do it right now. Now we have to focus on keeping the Peruvian government from toppling. But maybe after this."

"What about the kids in London?" John retorted. "Those all have shelters. I make them go. Nearly none of them sleep on the streets or are starving." Sherlock answered nonchalantly, but Elizabeth saw that this meant a lot to him. She could see him wandering the city, making sure that his kids are of the streets and safe. "How about after all of this, we see what we can do." Elizabeth nodded, content with the promise for now. Sherlock clearly cared for these kids, they wouldn't just forget this.

* * *

 **Chapter 49**

* * *

The dinner was comfortably silent. All three of them were rather tired and had a lot to think about, the entire conspiracy theories, the kids, life in general. To their surprise however suddenly a small group came to see them. They had a heavy Peruvian accent and spoke broken Spanish. "Hello. Are you Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson?"

The men blinked for a second. "Yes that is us." Immediately they smiled and started to blush a little. "Ha I knew it!" laughed one of the taller men. "We are hug fans of you and your stories! They are so badass!" "And the way you figure things out! It is like you are magic!" exclaimed a small blond. "I assure you it isn't magic. Merely science."

The group laughed again. "And who are you?" the conversation turned to her making her shift uncomfortably in the chair. "My name is Elizabeth. I am their fri." Of course she didn't get to finish her sentence. "OMG you are her aren't you! The kidnapped teenager! We were rooting for you!" "Rooting for me?" she frowned slightly. "What do you mean?" "We were watching you!" They said cheerfully.

She stared at them for a second longer before it clicked. They were watching her… They had been watching her when Moriarty had poisoned her. "You were watching me." She sighed in horror. If she had been paying attention she would have seen the change in Sherlock and John's posture. "Yeah Liz!" she flinched at his nickname. "When you shot that man! Wow! Didn't think you'd do it. Plus then you started screaming at us! You put on a show!"

The memories started to trickle back. The immense pain, not being able to breathe, all of it. And they just kept talking, not noticing her shaking body, the tears forming in her eyes. Not noticing Sherlock anger, Johns clenched fists. The man with the dreadlock continued her story. "No my favourite part was when you reached for her and your finger tips touched! Phew! It made me cry! I thought for sure you were a goner!"

"I was." It came out like a whisper. "I was dead. My heart stopped." "Yeah but they started it again didn't they?" Sherlock shot up from his chair. "Fuck off." "Sorry?" "You heard him. Fuck off!" "Why? We were just giving you a compliment." Sherlock stepped forward, towering above all of them, glowering at everyone. He looked like a demon to be honest, she was happy he was on her side. "You think that was game? You think that she was acting? You think it was a joke? She was being tortured! She died! She had to kill someone! None of it was fake! All of it was real!" people were starting to look at them but she couldn't be bothered to care. "And you come here and talk about it like it was a fucking movie!" flustered the group tried to say something again but John didn't let them. "What did you do when the video started? Uh? Did you watch it? Did you enjoy it? Did you call for help? What did you do?! To help her?"

"No, I mean yes. I mean no. I, we thought it was a … a show. A skit." Before either John or Sherlock could start talking again Elizabeth started. Her voice was soft but she caught everyone's attention. "I begged for help. I begged for someone to find me, to help me. And you just sat there, watching."

"We thought. It didn't seem real. I can't have been real." Disbelieve on their faces was so shocking to her. Elizabeth stood up and turned her back to them before pulling up her shirt. "Does this look fake to you?" It came out as an angry growl. "Does this look fake?" Her voice rose a little as they looked at the long red scars on her back.

The gasp filled the room, not just the 'fans', everyone in the room. She whimpered slightly and jumped away when a soft finger touched a particularity bad one. She tugged her shirt back down and John pulled her into his chest protectively. "Now go." They opened their mouth to apologise but when Sherlock glared at them they walked away.

She felt incredibly guilty when she spoke next. "Can we leave to? I don't want to be out in the open right now." She felt horrible to destroy the perfect mood that they had had. "No problem, I'll pay and then we are leaving." John wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she allowed herself to lean into him for a couple of seconds. Letting herself calm back down, letting the memories leave again, before pulling away again.

She did let him hold her hand on the way back to the hotel. She got dressed into her pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as she touched the pillow. Luckily that night was a dreamless one. The next day they decided to figure out a plan. They had to find a way to subtly get in touch with Mercedes or Eduardo. Sherlock was certain that if he found a way to talk to them he could find out what he needed to know.

They set to work, they had to find an opening so they could talk to each other. They spend the entire day tipping the computer looking for the quickest meeting. Luckily this was something wildly broadcasted and Elizabeth found out that on the 20st of august Mercedes would be in the Plaza d' Armas at 10 o clock. She was going to give a speech about the recent disturbances around the gem trade.

It was suffering the last couple of months, less and less export, the economy declining, people losing their jobs, not knowing why. There had been a couple of rites, some strikes, none of it was a really big deal. However, according to Sherlock, if she dropped the right words at the right time she could plant ideas in their head. So they had to intercept her before the meeting, they would find a way to talk to her. Ironically Sherlock was planning to do the exact same thing to her as she planned to do to the people.

After that they had 10 more days to stop the attack. It would have to do, now they had to concentrate on finding a way to talk with her. It wouldn't be easy, if they did anything wrong it would get them in jail or dead. The first idea was go in as journalists, but that wouldn't get them close enough, private enough. Unless they could get a private interview with her, if they could set something up then maybe just maybe they would have a shot.

If they were going to get that interview they would have to have a pretty good reason to talk to her, she would have to want to talk to her. That is where Sherlock came in. He had to find a secret, something they could use to manipulate her. If they had that they could make her come to them. Something discriminating enough that she would want all of them to listen to them.

Sherlock spend all of his time watching interviews and trying to find something that might give them some idea what they could use. The only thing that he was rather certain about was the corruption scandal that she was part of. But she could easily talk herself out of it. She had supposedly done so much to help the people back then, and everyone had done it. They highly doubted that anyone would do anything in there time of need.

She was a hero for the people, they needed something stronger to get her scared and worried. So he delved deeper into the information they had about him. Half way through the day she felt hungry and asked the men if they wanted to get something to eat. Sherlock didn't even look up, she was rather sure that he hadn't even heard what she had said.

John sighed "He is in to deep, I highly doubt he'll respond to anything until he found what he was looking for." They grabbed their coats and left. "We should bring him something though. I hate it when he doesn't eat for days." "It has gotten better since you joined us." When Elizabeth raised her eyebrows making John chuckle. "He doesn't want you to worry about him. It is actually a little cute, and frustrating." "Why?" "He never gave a damn about worrying me."

She heard the frustration in his voice making her giggle slightly. "He cares." "Not as much as he cares about you. He doesn't want you to get hurt, not after everything you went through. He cares about me, but he doesn't worry about me the way he worries about you." "You are exaggerating." Her cheeks had gone red, she didn't exactly know how to handle compliments or hearing someone say they care about her.

"I really am not. You should have seen him on your first day of school. It was subtle but he was just a right bundle of nerves. Kind of adorable." "I didn't notice that." "He tried his best to keep it hidden, but it was there." Elizabeth smiled slightly at him. "I sometimes wish he would just show use what he felt. It would make everything so much easier." "You said it yourself. We will get through it."

Elizabeth made John stop at a Chinese takeout place. "Really? We are in Peru." "I am craving dumplings. Don't judge." She grunted as she dragged him through the door by his sleeve. She ordered as much as food as they could carry. "You can never have enough dumplings." She smiled as they grabbed the 6 bags. 2 for her, 2 for John and 2 for Sherlock. Part of her hoped that Sherlock wouldn't eat all of them so she could eat 4 bags, but the man needed food.

When they entered the room they stopped and took in the sight in front of them. Sherlock had taken a different position. He was technically still sitting on the bed but he had positioned himself so that his head was on the carpet. He was upside down and his eyes were closed, his legs draped on the bed, his back against the bed post. Judging by the colour of his bright red head he'd been in that position for a while.

"Sherlock? What are you doing?" The only answer she got was a grunt, she was partially sure it meant _thinking._ "Want to sit up? You look a little red, buddy." "Uhmpf." But at least he did what he was told. Sherlock swung his legs from the bed and laid himself down on the carpeted floor. "Here." She handed him his bags. "Eat something." "Not hungry." "Yeah you are. I heard your stomach rumbling." "Eating takes energy. Need energy to think." Rolling her eyes she dropped the bags on his chest. "Suck it up and eat."

Her heart felt a little lighter when the man all be it reluctantly picked up a bag and eat his food. "I though you wanted to try out the local cuisine." Teased Sherlock. "Shut up and eat your food."

* * *

 **Chapter 50**

* * *

The next couple of hours was spend in silence, researching and eating. Elizabeth didn't really know what exactly to do so she went on food runs from time to time. Getting them snacks and food. She tried her best to help them, but she wasn't even sure what she was looking for. Something that doesn't fit right, a word that doesn't fit, a nick of the head that was wrong.

She however wasn't able to notice those things, instead she decided to focus on blogs and conspiracy theories. You never knew, maybe Mercedes Araoz was part of the Illuminati, maybe she took part in faking the moon landing through time travel. Only there wasn't exactly a lot about her, she wasn't very interesting according to most people.

The only thing that caught her attention was the mention of a sexual assault 'epidemic' that went through Peru. It was interesting but she wasn't sure what it could have to do with her. With a frustrated grunt she tossed herself backwards onto the bed, only thing was that Sherlock was also on the bed. So her head hit his stomach making him double forward. "Dear god Elizabeth! Watch out!" "Should have moved." Sighing Sherlock continued to read through the stories and she continued with the fan theories.

Though it might not be directly relevant the sexual abuse stories caught her interest and she dug deeper. She wondered why she hadn't heard about this before. It was quite a big story. Hell even the Miss Peru pageant got involved! As she continued to read when something clicked. First there had been a huge scandal when Fujimori had a sterilised 270 000 women, and now there was the entire beauty pageant rile up. Before that there had been a gigantic march of women against sexual abuse.

And then Mercedes Araoz went a head and said "El Perú no es un país de violadores, borremos ese hashtag. (Peru is not a country of rapists, let's remove this hashtag.)" The hashtag in question was of course #MeToo. She defenitly got a backlash from that. "Hey, Sherl." "Don't call me that." "You call me Liz." "Not the same thing." The detective grumbled. She felt the sound on his stomach making her smile a little. "I have a theory." John sat up with interest. "Maybe it has something with the recent rape claims."

"Sorry?" "You know about the beauty pageant don't you?" both of the men nod. "And before that there was the entire sterilisation thing." "Okay." "What if those two are connected? I mean think about it. Isn't it incredibly well timing that all of this flames up now? And did you hear what she said about the MeToo hashtag."

For a second they sat in silence, thinking. "It could be something, but do you have any kind of clue?" "No, it was just a theory. A hunch." "Okay, I'll look into it." he noticed the teen letting out a massive sigh and chuckled. "What is so funny?" "Not everything about a case is the chase Elizabeth. Research is just as important. Never attack your enemy when you are only half armed."

Though he could not see it, he could practically feel her roll her eyes. "Yeah well it feels an offal lot like homework during the vacation." "I know. If you want you can take a break." She grabbed her phone and continued scrolling through news, not really knowing what she was looking for anymore. After another two hours she put her phone away. "I am going to go on a walk, I need to go outside." She got up, grabbed her coat and walked out the door. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard kids laughing downstairs. At the entrance, she recognized a couple of the kids. They were the kids from the streets.

They seemed to recognize her and a couple of them came to her and grabbed her hand. She had no clue what they were saying but she kept on hearing them say Sherlock. For a second she didn't even really know what to do, but she pointed upstairs. Still holding her hand they led her back upstairs. Elizabeth laughed a little as they pushed the door open and crowded the room.

"Your friends are here." John smiled at the kids as they hugged Sherlock, who was still on the bed. Very quickly the detective was stuck under a pile of kids. Elizabeth managed to take a picture of them before he managed to untangle himself from them. Sherlock calmed them down and made them sit down on the ground. They quickly started to discuss everything while John and Elizabeth settled down. She watched in amusement when one of the kids crawled onto his lap and the man let him sit there.

A young boy pulled at her pants and she sat down next to her. Within seconds two little girls sat down onto her lap and another boy started playing with her hair. If she hadn't been used to kids she would be freaking out. John was quickly pulled down as well, and covered in kids.

Though Sherlock looked rather comfortable with the boy on his lap, John didn't seem to know what to do with the young girl on his legs. After 45 minutes of talking Sherlock lifted, the now asleep boy, from his lap and handed him to another kid. They went downstairs with Sherlock up front. Again the lobbyer stood at the front desk, everything was covered in bags. Elizabeth watched Sherlock hand them out to the kids before sending them out.

"More food." "Yeah." "What about the other kids?" "They will all get it, don't worry about it. I told to distribute everything." "Did you learn something interesting?" "Actually yes, apparently Maria Jose Lora, Miss Peru has connections with Mercedes Araoz." "What kind?" "Romantic." Now that wasn't what they had expected. "Isn't Araoz married?" John inquired. "Yeah, well cheating is something that still exists."

"Are you sure about this Sherlock?" "They kids saw them sneaking in hotels quite a few times. I think it is a safe bet." "Doesn't tell us what she is going to do?" "No, but it gives us an inn. All we need is a bit of proof and we can get her to talk with us." "Do you think she'll tell us what we need to know?" "No, but if I ask the right question we can figure it out by ourselves."

"So no more research?" "For now, yeah no more research." "We still need to find some proof." "John you are such a spoil sport!" "Don't worry about it Liz, I gave them a camera. We will get the pictures we need." "So we don't have to do anything?" Elizabeth felt a little disappointed, she wanted some action. "No for now, there isn't anything we can do."

"So we have 5 free days. 5 days of nothingness." John sighed as he sat down. "Maybe we can do something." Elizabeth suggested. "I mean I am defenitly not staying here." "She is right, I am sure there are quite a few things we can do if we want." "How about Reserva Paisajistica Nor Yauyos. It is a nature park, we can go and camp there for a couple of days."

And so it was decided, they packed a pack bag and went camping for a couple of days. Elizabeth felt incredibly giddy the entire time. She was finally having a real vacation, it felt pretty amazing. In the open air, just tracking the entire time, getting lost in nature. She had been worrying a little that Sherlock wouldn't enjoy their time out in nature but he seemed to relax. The constant noise around them was keeping him rather occupied, his eyes scanned the bushes and the canopy for sources of the noise. From time to time he would whisper underneath his breath, it sound like Latin. "Is he?" "Yeah, I think he is figuring out the different kinds of plants." She chuckled underneath her breath and slowed her step till she was walking next to the muttering man.

"Mind filling me in?" he looked confused. "Teach me Sherlock." "Teach you what?" she grabbed a leaf and handed it to him. "What is this?" "Buddleja Incana. It is an herb that is supposed to help against toothache." "How do you know?" With a little smile he started to explain the difference in the texture and shape, the veins and colours, the flower and where it was growing. Though she tried her best it was rather impossible to tell the difference between all of them.

By the end of the day she could identify maybe 10 different species but that was all. They sat up tent and started a fire. They had brought quite a bit of food so it wasn't long before they were full. It had gotten dark and she looked up at the stars. "Can you teach me the constellations?" John snickered. "He doesn't know the earth goes around the sun so he defenitly won't know the constellations. I promise you that."

"Not true." "What?" "I know the stars that would help with orientation. We were going to go tracking, so I made sure I could orientate ourselves in case we ever got lost." John rolled his eyes. "And yet you still." "Oh for fucks sake John. Yes, by now I know the earth goes around the sun! How could I not? At this point every time I hear the word sun or earth I hear you say it. I highly doubt I will ever be able to forget such a useless fact."

The sudden frustrated outburst send her into a fit of laughter which greatly annoyed Sherlock. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get him to show her how he could navigate. They laid down on their backs and he would point out the constellations, tell her their names and where they came from. He was surprised when she already knew quite a few and knew how to find the North Star. John, who had decided to join them, also knew more than they had expected.

He explained that in the army they expect the soldiers to know a few things. They fell asleep their on the ground. The following 3 days went pretty much the same. They talked, swapped stories and ideas, Sherlock and John thought her how to track, what plants she could eat, what she could use as protection. It let them forget about some of the things that had been going on.

But of course after a couple of days they had to go back to Lima. They had one more day to gather their stuff and then they would strike. John and Sherlock were incredibly calm as they packed their bags and checked the facts again. Elizabeth on the other hand was a bundle of nerves, not entirely sure of herself. Her job was simple, get Mercedes Araoz attention. A young girl wouldn't be seen as a threat, she would get Mercedes to listen so she could tell them they knew, and then Sherlock and John would take over.

That night she didn't sleep, or at least she barely did, instead she just tossed and turned. From time to time she'd grab her phone and read a bit more, but she already knew everything that was going on. Finally it was time and they checked out of the hotel and made their way to the podium where Mercedes would be.

They made sure they got their at least an hour before so they could set up. Just across the stadium was an empty building, Sherlock would wait there while John would stand in the crowd. He'd make sure she wouldn't get into any trouble. All three of them were armed. She had been a little bit spooked when John had given her the taser, but she had taken it anyway. The men both carried actual guns.

45 minutes later people started to arrive, and a large black car came around the corner. A woman stepped out of the car. She had shoulder length light brown hair, it curled slightly upwards at the end. Her brown eyes looked so concentrated and her smile was fake. A pair of silver earing hung from her ears complementing the elegant red dress.

It was Mercedes. Seeing the woman coming out of the car seemed so unreal. Elizabeth had been looking at her pictures for days now, and here she was. In all her glory.

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't understand how Arthur Donan Coyle managed to write all these cases! I mean jesus christ that man was a miracle. But here is my attempt. Please let me know about anything that didn't add up or if you have anything to say. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3 - Time to go home

**Chapter 51**

* * *

She hurried forward towards the prime minister, slipping through the crowds but guards stopped her. With a quick movement she tasered the one on her left, who immediately let go of her. The second guard slackened her grip in surprise which was all she needed. "Mrs Mercedes stop! I need to talk to you! It is important!"

She managed to get a meter from him before the security guard grabbed her again. "Wait! I know about Camila Canicoba! I have pictures!" the security guard was dragging her away when Mercedes held up her hand. "What?" "I have pictures of you and Mrs Canicoba. I have them here."

"Do you have proof?" the woman softly. "Yes, I it is on my phone." The woman released her and she slowly grabbed her phone from her back pocket. "Here." Just before they left the kids had come over one last time with a phone. They had a dozen of pictures on the phone of them going into the hotel together and they had managed to grab a picture of them kissing throw a window.

Elizabeth had felt a little wrong about those pics but it was for the best at this point. Frustrated she grabbed the phone tossed it on the ground and destroyed it with her heels. Though they had expected this to happen, the violent way she did it made her jump. "Take her away." They dragged her away again.

"Wait!" the guards hesitated for a second. "Do you honestly think that that is the only copy I have of those pictures?" the woman stared at her in pure frustration. "What do you want?" "We want to talk." "We?" she hissed at her. "Yes, my friends are waiting for use. There." She pointed at the building across the street. "It will only take 10 minutes."

"You expect me to just come with you? To an abandon building. Alone?" "No. Bring your guards if you must. We won't release the pictures if you will just sit there with us for 10 minutes. Might not even be that long. You don't have to talk to us, you don't have to say anything or do anything. Just sit and listen."

The security guard she had tasered said something in Spanish but was waved off. Instead she signalled three heavily armed guards to come over. "I will go with you." Elizabeth sighed with relief, she had done her part. As they quickly crossed the road John sprinted to catch up. "Don't hurt him, he is part of our group."

Though it was clearly reluctant she allowed him to follow. Inside of the building Sherlock stood with his head held high next to a chair. "Mrs Araoz, please sit down." The guards quickly scanned the room before she took a seat in the chair. "My name is Sherlock Holmes, I'll be questioning you." A sicking smile crossed the woman's face. "Mr Holmes. I have heard of you. This must be pretty important if you are involved."

"Doesn't matter. Not right now." "It does to me. Why are you hear?"

"Does the sterilization of 1990 have anything to do with the sudden rise in rape?"

"Who send you?"

"Are you planning on doing something today?"

"Why do you care?"

"Do have something to do with the VPLG? Do you have anything to do with the change with the gem trade?"

"Oh interesting. Who is telling you all these little lies pretty boy?"

"Are you planning a revolution? Will you free Fujimori?"

"Those are pretty big accusations handsome."

"Why did you sabotage Keiko Fujimori's presidential campaigns in 2011 and 2014?"

"I did no such thing."

"Ah ah ah! So far you managed not to lie during this entire session. Don't start now. Why?"

"I did not!"

"Did she know something she wasn't supposed to know? What was she going to do to you? Was she interfering with something? If so why not just kill her?"

Sherlock cocked his head as he looked at her. "You still need her."

"I have no idea what you are talking about.

"But what for?"

"We are leaving." She started to get up but Elizabeth stepped in front of her. "If you leave now, I will upload the pictures to the internet. Your secret will be out. We still have 3 minutes."

Reluctantly the woman sat back down in the chair, throwing daggers at them.

"Is she your scape goat? Will you blame her for everything? Or are you relaying on her? She has to do something for you. But she isn't part of your organization, she won't do anything for you. Unless you are threating her. No that wouldn't be subtle enough, if she got any dirt on you she'd expose you in a heartbeat."

Sherlock thought for a second. "Oh. But she is predictable isn't she. You can predict what she is going to do. You don't need to force her, she just has to be at the right place at the right time."

Mercedes merely huffed in frustration.

"So all I have to do is remove her from the equation and your pretty little revolution won't work will it. Oh wait, that isn't it. You have a backup plan don't you? The plan will slow down without Keiko but it won't end. That would just be a little too easy. So what can we do?"

"Your time is up Mr Holmes. Sorry I couldn't be more help."

Sherlock shook the woman's hand and they walked away. Elizabeth looked at Sherlock with disbelief. "Did that get you anything?" "Yes, time for part two." "Part two?" John looked just as surprised as she did. "Yes. Part two. I wasn't sure how to do progress until I talked to her. So part two, let's go."

"Wait Sherlock, tell us what we are going to do." "You nothing. Leave it to me." "Sherlock!" but the man was already through the door. "What the hell is he doing?" "I have no clue." They ran after him and they saw him disappear in the crowd. He managed to slip through them with no problem while Elizabeth and John just could push through them.

"God damn it Sherlock." She swore loudly. She could see him running to the front of the stage. Sherlock was quite a bit bigger than most Peruvian. John was making a bit more progress than she was but not really. A couple of seconds later Mercedes came forward and started to talk to the people. She was speaking Spanish so she didn't understand a word she was saying.

Instead she tried to keep her eyes on Sherlock. He had stopped moving and started to talk to the people around them. He only said a couple of words before he disappeared again to another group of people.

Curiosity started to work up as he did it again and again. It didn't take long for Mercedes to see Sherlock in the crowd to. Though she didn't want to show it, she followed his movements out the corner of her eye. She was getting more and more frustrated, and eventually she glanced at her security who jumped in action.

Her heart leaped to her throat as the guards approached Sherlock and grabbed him. To her surprise he didn't struggle instead he just smiled and spoke one word. She couldn't hear it, he was too far away. Only a few people around her must have been able to hear him. "What on earth is going on?" she whispered to herself.

While Sherlock was rather forcefully removed from the group the crowd started to get whispering to each other. When Araoz started to talk again, probably addressing the situation, the crowd became more frustrated. John quickly joined her side. "Let's go find him. Before he gets in too much trouble." Grabbing her hand she started to run to get her friend.

They stopped in their tracks when they saw Sherlock on the ground a couple of meters from them. "Oh god!" she crouched next to him. "Don't worry. I am okay." He got up his hand over his stomach. "Only one punch." "That bitch." She snarled.

"Don't worry Elizabeth. Everything went to plan." "The plan was getting hit in the stomach?" "No. That wasn't necessary, but the rest was yes." John squeezed her shoulder before turning to the detective. "Mind telling us what the plan was?"

Sherlock smiled a little. "Plans not over yet." "Dear god Sherlock just tell us!" but before he could even react a shout came out of the crowd. "Ahh, there we go. Follow me." She let out a horrible sigh as the man walked out again. "For fucks sake." They followed him back towards the crowd where things were slowly becoming more chaotic. People were yelling at Mercedes and she tried to calm them down but it didn't work.

Sherlock was standing behind the group of people watching and smiling. "Sherlock just tell us!" "Give it a second." One of the people closest to them turned around, when he saw Sherlock he let out a yell which made the entire crowd turn around. Sherlock stood a little taller and spoke a couple of words, winked, bowed to Mercedes and grabbed Elizabeth's hand before running of.

People cheered as the three of them ran off. They were a couple of blacks away before the detective stood still. "Can you tell us now?" smiling he turned towards them. "I needed to hear what she was going to say, I needed to know how she was going to make the people pissed off. What would the seed be that start everything go crazy."

"Okay so?" "I also needed to make sure they didn't do that. They could go crazy, but not for her reasons. If they didn't listen to her, then they would have to find a new moment to talk. But that would be rather easy. They could just do it the next meeting they had. So I had to make sure they couldn't do it again." "But how? All you did was talk."

Sherlock grinned stupidly. "Exactly I talked. I told different parts of the crowd different pieces of information. Things that I was rather sure she would say. I told them that plus that they were lies. That plus the fact that halfway through the day I was dragged out of the crowd was enough to rouse suspicious. Then she said that not to worry that I was just a trouble maker and not to listen to what I had said. Those exact words. Not to listen."

Sherlock was grinning stupidly. "Telling people not to listen to the person that says you are lying is exactly what makes them listen." "What did you say when you came back?" "I told them that she would continue to lie to make them angry. That she wanted nothing more than to destroy Peru. And then we ran off."

Elizabeth laughed loudly. "Now she can't try it again. Or at least not as easily. Then we will tell Keiko not to do anything for the next couple of months then their plans will start to fall apart. No revolution if people don't panic and protest." "So what do we do know?" "Nothing. We tell Vladimiro what we know and we go back to London."

Elizabeth looked a little disappointed. "Really? That is the end of this? No climax nothing? Just this?" Sherlock laughed a little. "I got punched in my stomach, that good enough for you?" he shoved her slightly. "Let's get going." They decided to have a celebratory dinner before grabbing a cab back to the airport. Elizabeth debate asking the boys to go to Machu Picchu but she knew that wasn't a real option any more.

So she just sat enjoying her food with her friends as they talked with each other. It had gotten quite late by the time they were ready, they only had 2 hours to get to the airport so they were hurrying. John was waving down a cab when Sherlock suddenly pulled her to the ground. "Get down!" just before she slammed into the pavement a gunshot went off, the bullet flew right were her head had been seconds before.

He didn't give her any time to process what had happened as he pulled her back from the floor, dragging her along. Sherlock's grip on her wrist was painfully hard as she stumbled behind him. John grabbed her other arm by the elbow, steadying her as they ran. Two more bullets flew past their heads making her whimper.

"What is going on?" John yelled. "Revenge." Sherlock's voice was a growl. The gun shot sounded so much closer and the bullet slammed into the wall only a centimetre next to her head. Swearing John let go of her arm and slowed his pass so he was running behind her. He was shielding her from behind with his own body. They turned a corner and Sherlock stopped pulling out his gun.

"Go. Take Elizabeth and run." "We are not leaving you." "You aren't. I'll be right behind you." "No you won't." "Please just trust me." she wanted to protest but Sherlock simply grabbed her arm again and dragged her with him. Her mind was still trying to catch up with what was going on so she just let him. "Come one Elizabeth. We need to get help."

"Why isn't anyone coming outside? Why are we alone?" "It is late. Gunshots don't attract people." John was panting. "They might call the police but that is it." She heard another round of shoots and then a cry of pain. It wasn't Sherlock. That was all she could think of. It wasn't Sherlock's voice so they were okay. And then suddenly it was Sherlock's voice. John stopped in his tracks along with her, looking behind themselves. "Sherlock." The doctor whispered softly. "We have to go back. We have to help him!" she tugged at his wrist but he shook his head. "No. We have to go."

"But John Sherlock!" "We can't. I am sorry Elizabeth." He pulled her along. "We can't do anything to help him if we are dead." "Dead" "We can't think about this now. Just run." So that is what she did, run. They crossed through the empty streets till finally the sound of gunshots disappeared. Finally John stopped running, and leaned against the wall. Elizabeth legs buckled as her slide down against the wall onto the ground.

"We have to go back." "Elizabeth we can't." "He could be hurt Sherlock. He is hurt! He could be dying." "I know, but they could still be there." "John we can't just leave him there." "We have to." She buried her face into her hands as she tried to controle her breath. "Elizabeth, we should get going again. We have to get to a safe place." But she didn't react, just stayed down. "Elizabeth." He said it a little louder. "We have to." He didn't get to finish his sentence as a figure turned the corner.

It was one of their attackers, with a gun pointed right at them.

* * *

 **Chapter 52**

* * *

"You shouldn't have interfered." The gunshot was so loud, so horrible it sounded like it came from just next to her. She expected to feel a sudden flair of pain or to see John collapse next to her. Instead the man in front of her fell to his knees grabbing his chest. His gun fell out of his hands, clattering on the pavement.

John grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up. "Come on." She got up but not before she grabbed the fallen gun. Shouts were coming from where the attacker had come. She ran off with John, she quickly realised that they were circling back. "What are you doing?" "We aren't leaving him behind." Do she was happy with the development she didn't understand it. "What changed?" "There were 4 shooters. Sherlock shot 1 of them, I shot another one. There are only 2 of them left."

"We can take them." "No Elizabeth. I can take them. You aren't doing anything. You are staying safe." They came to the street where they had left Sherlock and she saw a figure onto the ground. "Sherlock?" she pulled away from John and pulled the body up, into the light. Relief flooded her system, the man wasn't Sherlock. She dropped him and got back up, whipping the blood from her hands onto her pants.

"He is alive." She whispered. John didn't confirm it, he knew it was possible that Sherlock could be lying dead somewhere in the street. God he couldn't think about that. His friend somewhere here on the cold ground, in the dark, a bullet in his heart. No, he had to be okay. Sherlock didn't just die. He had to focus on finding him and keeping Elizabeth safe. He could feel her pulse underneath his fingers, it was fluttering, a clear sign of panic.

That plus the sweating palms, the shaking arms, the dilated pupils. She was terrified. He had to make sure nothing happened to her. They continued to run, they would find him and save his sorry ass. They turned another corner, and another one, and another one. The need to call for Sherlock was getting bigger and bigger, but if he did, he would alarm their attackers.

They would find him. "John look!" Elizabeth pointed at the ground where specks of blood were laying on the ground. "This way." They followed the trail of blood as the drops became bigger and bigger. John squeezed her hand as they saw a rather big pool of blood. The young teen was whispering slightly underneath her breathe. "He is going to be okay. He is going to be okay. He is going to be okay."

When they turned yet another corner he pulled her to a halt. Just in front of them were 2 people, they were hunched over and walking at a quick pace. They were both holding guns. "Come out little man. You can't escape this." They were looking for Sherlock, which meant he was still alive. John let out a breath and pushed Elizabeth behind him. "Stay behind me." he whispered as he switched the safety of his gun.

He stalked slightly more forward and pulled the trigger, twice in quick concession. With a pained cry the man and woman collapsed onto their ground. They grabbed their knees where the bullets had shattered the bone.

The doctor jumped forward and grabbed both guns away from the attackers. "Sherlock? Sherlock where are you?" A soft groan came from a couple meters away. "Here." Within seconds Elizabeth was at his side helping him up. "Dear god, are you okay?" the detective had gone incredible pale and he was clutching his side. "We need to get him to a hospital." Nodding John went to helped Elizabeth hold Sherlock up, but not before nocking the two assassin unconscious.

They limped towards the street and managed to wave down a cab. Sherlock stumbled inside and dropped his head backwards against the chair. His breathing was ragged and sweat ran down his forehead, the black curls pressed against his pale skin. His entire body was shaking as the blood started to leak through his hands. "Hospital now." John barked at the chauffeur as he started to apply make shift bandages to the bullet wound in his abdomen.

He gave Elizabeth quick orders to help Sherlock, keeping the young teen busy so she wouldn't panic. That was the last thing they needed, her having a panic attack. She ripped up her sweater for the bandages he would need, put pressure around the wound, and all the while he kept talking to Sherlock, keeping him awake. The car drive was felt like it took forever, them driving through the dark streets, Sherlock's breathe formed white clouds.

Finally they were in front of the hospital and pulled Sherlock out of the car. He had lost way too much blood and could barely stand on his own legs, he was still awake but his head had slumped down and was pressed against his chest. They dragged him into the hospital where nurses will immediately grabbed him. John quickly told them all the information they would need as Sherlock was carted away.

They walked through the door and John and Elizabeth were stopped, not allowed to go further. Not sure what else to do they sat down into the plastic chairs of the waiting room. Neither of them said a word, they just leaned against each other, painfully squeezing each other's hand for comfort. They sat there for an hour, just looking at the door, waiting.

Finally after an hour a doctor walked towards them. "You brought Mr Sherlock Holmes to this hospital?" she asked them. Elizabeth nodded frantically. "Is he okay?" The doctor smiled kindly at her and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "He is stable and will recover with little to no problem." She reassured them. John let out a sigh and relaxed slightly in his chair.

"He is asleep right now and should stay calm for at least a week. He will have a scar but he is a very lucky man. One centimetre to the left the bullet would have hit his artery, a nick to the right and it would have ruptured his kidney. But he should probably not drink any alcohol till his liver is fully healed."

"Can we see him?" Elizabeth sounded so small. "Normally only family can visit but I suppose his family isn't here." "We are his family." John retorted. "Maybe not legally but we are family." "Don't worry sir. You are allowed to see him. But after that I would like to check you out as well. You don't look so good yourself." "Thank you doctor." He shook her hand before following him through the halls towards Sherlock's room.

They sat next down to Sherlock. Apparently just seeing Sherlock breathing was all Elizabeth needed, because she hadn't been sitting next to him for 5 minutes before she fell asleep. 10 minutes later a nurse came in and looked them over, both of them were given a full bill of health and the second they could leave, they would. Sherlock himself woke up a couple of hours later and explained what had happened.

It was pretty straight forward, he had hidden himself around the corner and shoot the first person that came around the corner in the head. Before he could shoot anyone else however they shoot him. Luckily they missed anything important so he managed to run off. He figured he wouldn't be able to shoot them if he was bend double the entire time.

So instead he thought it would be better to distract them by running in the other direction. If John had arrived any later they would have found him. With the doctors approval they booked a flight back to London for two days later. During those days Sherlock quickly started to feel better and quickly became the normal pain in the ass they loved.

He would complain about having to stay in the hospital, wanting to go leave or do anything interesting. But she made him sit in bed and wouldn't let him leave or take anything to 'make life a little more interesting'. Finally they were allowed to leave, but Sherlock had to stay in a wheelchair the entire time. Though the detective was opposed to the idea, his opinion didn't real mater at the time.

She rolled him through the hospital while John lugged the baggage through the terminals. They were waiting to be allowed on the plane when Sherlock grabbed her wrist. "Need to go to the bathroom." "Well I am not taking you. John!" The doctor grabbed his chair and rolled to the bathroom. "Okay, but I am not going with you into the stall." "John we are in trouble." "Dude. You can piss by yourself. You aren't that hurt." "No you idiot. Did you notice the young stewardess, three seats behind us? Clearly a native, probably 25 year's old, simple clothes."

"No. Not really." "Well I guess that is kind of the point. She isn't here to travel. Is here to kill us." "What? Elizabeth is still there! She could hurt her!" "Not yet. I think she is going to wait till we are on the plane, halfway to London." "Why?" "We won't be able to get help anywhere." "What do you think she is going to do?"

"She's got poison. Pretty sure she is going to add it in our food during the flight." "How do you know?" "Her jewellery." "What?" "Her jewellery." "Sherlock what on earth does someone's jewellery have anything to do with poison?" "She is wearing traditional bracelets." "Sherlock." "Let me finish! The jewellery is made out of Abrus precatorius, which is a very poisons plant. She's got them on her wrist."

"Those that really mean she is planning to kill us Sherlock. I mean she might just be wearing it as a jewel." "She isn't. She's been following us since before we got into the fucking airport, she has changed her clothes 6 times since then. She has had 3 phone calls, all from different telephones. She isn't a stewardess." John sighed and dropped his head in his hands. "God Sherlock. What are would we do without you?" "You'd be somewhere in London in your own flat."

"I never regretted getting an apartment with you Sherlock. Now what are we going to do?" "It isn't as easy as just getting the police to arrest her, or just not eating/ drinking anything that we didn't buy ourselves." "Why not?" "Because I am pretty sure she has a backup plan. Poisoning is the easiest route because it is a lot less suspicious. Plus it can cause a lot of pain. But if they don't have a choice they will shoot us the second we get of that plane."

John swallowed hard. "So we don't get on the plane." "If we set a foot outside of this terminal then they will shoot us." "So we have no way out." "Not really. I have spotted at least 6 people outside of the terminal who are gunmen, but those probably not the only ones." "God." "I know. We need to get on that plane." "How do we tell Elizabeth?" "We don't." "What! What if she eats something?" "She won't. I'll slip her some pills, so she sleeps the entire flight." "You want to drug her?" "It is the only way to keep her safe John. Come on lets go."

With a reluctant sigh John pushed Sherlock out of the bathroom. "We can board the plane now. Come on boys." Elizabeth sounded so excited he felt kind of guilty for what he was planning to do. But at least it was better than have her dead.

So with a big smile he allowed himself to be pushed onto the plane. As the doors were shut he could only think that they had 11 hours to stop themselves being killed.

* * *

 **Chapter 53**

* * *

"Elizabeth, have a drink." "Not thirsty." "Come on Elizabeth, you haven't drunken anything since we left." "We only left 30 minutes ago." "Fine. Then don't drink." Sherlock sulked into his chair, his heart beating slightly harder than it was supposed to. "Oh my god Sherlock. Fine give me the bottle, I'll drink it." she grabbed the bottle from his hand and drank the entire bottle empty with a roll of her eye."

20 minutes later she started to feel immensely tired. Her eyes felt heavy, something was wrong. "Sherlock somethings wrong." She tugged at his sleeve in slight panic. "What do you mean Liz?" "I don't feel good. Sherlock I think I might be drugged." He patted her hand. "I am sorry Elizabeth. But I had to." "What?" absolute disbelief fell over her eyes before they slammed shut and she fell asleep.

He sat the entire ride thinking. Calling the police in London wouldn't help. They would be able to find all the gunmen, he was pretty sure that there was at least on person on this damn plane with a gun. If she saw him call or text anyone, she'd shoot them all then and there. So that wasn't an option.

He glanced over at the doctor, he was sitting in his chair just across the aisle watching a movie. Or at least that was what it looked like, but he too was trying to figure something out as well. John glanced over at him and noticed Elizabeth leaning against his arm. "She asleep?" "Yep, out cold."

He smiled at him and turned back to the movie. So calling for help from the outside wouldn't work. Maybe he could find help in the plane. He looked around the plane. Next to Elizabeth sat an elder lady, probably in her 70ths. From the looks of it she had come to Peru to meet family and was going back to London. Not going to be a lot of help.

In front of him was a lady with her husband. They were holding hands with shiny new rings on their hands. Newlyweds and just back from their honeymoon. Cute. He was still studying, he couldn't be older than 25 years old. She however was professional tennis player by the looks from her hands. So useless.

The 16 year old next to them probably wouldn't be a lot of help either. The kids was a gamer, so that wouldn't help them. But maybe just maybe she could help with her karate. But she was 16 years old, so nope…

Okay next to John was something interesting. Johns neighbour was a policeman. Fit, strong and knew how to protect himself. He was also an educated man by the looks of the books in his bag. Okay, he could work with him, but they would have to communicate with him. Next to the policeman was his kids, a 4 year old cute girl. He would probably do anything for her, but he wouldn't want to put her in harm's way.

A group of researchers were sitting in the row behind him. Biologists. They could help. They had several specimens with them, they might have things that could slow the effects of the poison. Okay. This wasn't going as well as planned.

Who was sitting behind John? Oh fuck. Oh shit! Just behind John was the gunman. That was just their luck wasn't it? Though it was probably planned like this. This meant that the people around the assassin weren't an option. He wasn't naïve enough to go into the bathroom and text someone there. They would be monitoring his phone.

What to do now, what to do now? Okay, first the scientists behind him. He scribbled on a paper: _Don't say anything to me. Danger. Abrus precatorius poisoning. Have an antidote?_ Next he got up to do to the bathroom. He felt the eyes of the assassin on his back as he disappeared into the cubicle. Once he got out he pretended to stumbled slightly before dropping the paper on the man's lap. As he got up he patted his leg where the paper had landed and apologised.

He sat back down in the chair and smiled slightly at John. He heard the doctors behind him talking to each other in hushed voices. He was a little worried that the man with the gun would catch on but he didn't seem to react. 20 minutes later the stewardess came by asking for what they would like to eat. He smiled kindly and said he would take the chicken. When she asked about Elizabeth he smiled sweetly before answering. "She is out cold. I don't think she'll wake for another couple of hours. Thank you though."

The disappointment in her eyes was clear but she turned to John and asked him the same question. Sherlock turned around and glanced at the scientists who just looked confused at him. "Sorry sir. Don't know how to help you." Sherlock cursed at how loudly he said it, and how it caught the attention of the killer.

He instead started a conversation with John. He had to get John to know that the man next to him was a police agent, so he could ask for back up. However halfway through the conversation John interrupted him. "Oh Sherlock. By the way, this is Chris and his daughter Jane. They are from London as well."

They awkwardly shook hands over the aisle. "He is an agent." "Really." He smiled and John looked pretty smug. He should know by now that John could do it by himself. As the three of them talked some more the agent not so subtly winked at him.

A little later the food arrived, and his chicken and Johns pasta was placed in front of them. "You sure your friend doesn't want anything?" "Thank you very much. But I think Elizabeth is okay." "Alright then." John and Sherlock quickly shared a glance before they started to stare at the food. He felt the stare of the man on him and John, if they didn't start eating they would end up in deep trouble.

Sherlock lifted his spoon calculating his best move. He could eat it and then go to the bathroom to throw up, but John would have to go to. It would be way too obvious and they'd get shot. But if they didn't eat they would get shot. Okay then, time for some mind games. First to buy some time. John had his fork lifted already but Sherlock pushed it back down. "Aren't you forgetting something John?"

When John frowned he rolled his eyes. "Not because we are on a plane that you can just forget prayer." "Really Sherlock? Fine." He played along nicely and took Sherlock out stretched hand. Then the detective started an incredibly stupid prayer that didn't really make any sense.

 _Dear lord who aren't in heaven. After the incredibly stress full and long week we have had we thank you. Prayer might be the only real way we can say our thanks but words don't do it justice. Getting out of Peru basically unhurt didn't seem possible. Down in my heart I know this was just another test to test our loyalty but Elizabeth almost got hurt. Safety isn't always guaranteed in life but I pray that you will try to keep her safe if she were ever to loose us. Kids need our protection more than anything else. Amen._

However every first word of the sentence was what he needed to hear. It was a pretty standard code which he had expect from Sherlock to use. It went. **Dear. After. Prayer. Getting. Down. Safety. Kids. Amen.** The first and last word weren't relevant, just used to sell the bit. The rest however send a pretty clear message. Sherlock was going to try and take out the gun man.

The second Sherlock muttered the word Amen, John threw himself across the chairs. He dragged the agent Chris down with him and pulled little Jane out of her chair onto the ground. It was a rather ruff way of doing things, but it did the trick. Once the gun man knew what was going he had his gun out and was ready to shoot. Sherlock launched himself of his seat, throwing the chicken on the ground in the process.

He grabbed the assailants arm and directed it to his own feet. The gunshot made every person in the plane scream, including the assassin who got a bullet into his own foot. That was luckily enough to keep the bullet from tearing through anything important and damaging the plane. John and the agent were up in seconds, both trained to react to the sound of a gun.

Everyone else panicked as Sherlock wrestled the now hurt man onto the ground, but he wasn't giving up easily. He fought and kicked and pulled the trigger again. This time the bullet went right through the chair where Jane had been sitting. The bullet had enough force however to go right through the chair in front of her. Where a young man had been sitting, he cried out in pain and fell forward. "John!" The doctor leaped into action to help the hurt man as Sherlock finally managed to punish him in the head. Knocking him out cold. He got up with a big sigh turning to Chris.

"Have any handcuffs on you?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Ah aren't vacations wonderful? Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a review if you can!


	4. Chapter 4 - Time for a scandel

**Chapter 54**

* * *

Chris just looked absolutely terrified. "What on earth?" "Did you not tell them about what was going on?" "I didn't even know there was a gunman behind us till you started that prayer!" John cried from the other side of the chairs. "I am sorry. Can someone tell me what is going on?" Chris yelled, as he comforted his crying daughter. The people around them had stopped yelling but had all stepped as far away of them as possible.

"This man is an assassin, he was supposed to kill us. We stopped him." Sherlock pulled of his scarf and tied the Peruvian up with them. "Oh that reminds me." He jumped up and walked towards the front of the plane. Everyone made way for him as he approached the stewardess. The woman grabbed a knife and lunged for him, but before she could do any harm she slammed his fist into her face. She collapsed onto the ground in a heap.

"Tie her up would you." He said to no one in particular. "She was trying to poison us." A gasp came from the scientists as realization hit them. "Yeah. Thanks for the help btw." The detective grabbed the announcement from the wall. "Hello, my name is Sherlock Holmes. Please stay calm, everything is alright. The gunshot you just heard have been taken care of. The flight will continue as normal. Please stay calm."

The second he put down the mic, a pilot took over. "Ladies and gentleman this is your captain speaking. Please do remain calm, everything is all right and we will continue on our normal schedule. The gunshot was fake, just someone with a sick sense of humour. The cabin crew will be coming around soon with a complementary drink and snack. We apologise for the disturbance."

"John? Is he doing okay?" "Yeah, the bullet just grazed him. It is nothing more than a flesh wound." He got up and cleaned his hands in the bathroom. Meanwhile Sherlock went to check on Elizabeth. She was still asleep and unarmed. The 16 year old next to her was completely freaking out. "What is wrong with her? How is she still asleep? Is she okay?" "Don't worry kid. I drugged her." "You did what?" "Calm down. I am her guardian. I couldn't let her eat the food, this was the best option."

The rest of the flight was incredibly uncomfortable. Everyone was tense, and suspicious. Sherlock had placed the two attackers in the seats closest to the windows after searching them properly and securing them. Then he sat down next to them, making sure to keep them in check.

John took his seat next to Elizabeth, making sure she was safe. An hour before landing Elizabeth woke up with a startled cry. Once she had orientated she slapped John in the face before getting up and hitting Sherlock square in the jaw. "You son of a bitch! Don't you ever do that to me again! Now explain to me what happened."

An hour later they landed, people couldn't get off the plane fast enough. At that point they had told the police what was going on. The entire airport had been searched and all the shooters had been found. The police was swarming the place. Even though they could pin it on Mercedes she would have to lay low for a long time. So they were safe. Elizabeth was pissed of the rest of the day but calmed down a little when they got home.

During the drive they had decided best to keep it a secret. They would lie and tell them how amazing the vacation had been and continue on with their normal lives. Mrs Hudson knew something was of because of the treatment Sherlock received once they got home again. That stunt he had pulled with the gunman had opened up his wounds again.

John had been able to treat it on the plane so it wouldn't worsen any more, but he was still hurt. Her friends were all equally exited to figure out what had happened in Peru, but she lied her way through it. Lying wasn't all that hard at this point. She had gotten used to it. It hurt slightly to have to lie to her friends, that she couldn't just tell people the truth anymore.

But she sucked it up and went to school. Her 6th year, one more year and she would be one her way to university. To be honest she wasn't sure what she would do. Part of her wanted to become a law enforcer. But that when she had told Sherlock that his face had gotten slightly white. "Don't." "Why? I thought you would be exited. We could work together!"

"It is just so dangerous. And you are already in quite a bit of danger just by being associated with us. I just want you to be safe." She understood what he meant, but she still wanted to help him official. To protect the people from London or even better the world as best as she could. However, something she had wanted to do for years was become a vet for the wildlife in Africa. That option was a lot more appealing for Sherlock and John.

But first they would have to get through this year. I mean dear god hadn't they been through enough! All she wanted was to live a safe and happy life. But Moriarty had destroyed that option. Now all she wanted to do was start over with Sherlock and John. That had been a rough start. The only thing she could hope for was that the next year would be a little calmer and that life would resume back to normal.

But when did life ever go as planned. Never. Never that is the answer. They had about 3 months of peace in the baker street household. They would wake up, eat breakfast in a rush. Well she would eat her food as fast as possible, Sherlock would already be awake and reading his book, and John would come out of his room by the time she was running down the stairs to get the bus.

The bus would bringer her too school just in the nick of time. That means that should would always be late because the bus was always late. After that school started as normal. She'd hang out with her friends and 'listen' to the teachers droning on. Not that she wasn't a good student, she was. She studied and got good grades but some teachers were just so frustrating to listen too.

After that bus back home, dinner, studying and sleeping. Day after day after day, only occasional being changed up by an interesting weekend. Though she enjoyed the mundane of it all after month 2 at certain times the boredom was so horrible she wanted to shove her head through a window. Sherlock still had quite a few cases coming up but none of them were as big as Peru.

One week Sherlock and John just disappeared, sending her just one text that went:

 _Apollo. Case. Lestrade._

Apollo was there code word to let her know that they were okay. If Apollo wasn't in the text she'd get worried. Of course that didn't mean that he wrote Apollo in every text but when they didn't show up. Case meant they had a case and Lestrade meant she had to let Greg know that the men wouldn't be home.

Apparently the case had been a rather stress full one, dad killing his daughters. Snakes, gang members, a band, ect. She had been quite excited to listen to the story. Anywhere the days after Peru was pretty amazing. Until one Saturday morning she wonder down the stairs to find Sherlock in a seat talking to John throw the computer. In the corner was a small rather chubby man that looked offended.

"Sherlock what is going on?" "Morning Elizabeth." John's distorted voice came through the computer with a sarcastic grin on his face.

"Shut up John. It is Saturday. I am not getting out of bed before 11 o clock. Now Sherlock, what is going on?" "John is on a case." "Yeah, but why aren't you with him." "Don't feel like it." "Sure you don't. I am getting breakfast." She waved at the man in the sofa and sat down at the dinner table with a toast and a cup of tea.

She chuckled as the two men bickered through the screen when the doorbell rang. She went to get the door but Sherlock stopped her, little later an annoyed Mrs Hudson came up the stairs with two gentlemen. "Good morning." she yelled from the kitchen as they approached Sherlock. "Can we help you?" She watched them close the computer and demand Sherlock to put on clothes, which made her feel little uncomfortable.

Sherlock being the cocky shit refused. "Should I get dressed?" "Sorry miss we are only here for Sherlock." "No. If you want me to come with you, Elizabeth is coming." The men sighed, clearly frustrated with his behaviour. "Fine. Miss would you mind getting dressed." "No, don't Elizabeth. You'll be find. Just grab your coat."

Part of her was tempted to put on her clothes, but Sherlock was playing a game and it would probably end up being pretty funny. So shrugging at the official looking men she put on her shoes and jacket before getting in the taxi. The second she released where they were going she regretted not putting on her clothes. Sherlock however looked pretty content in his sheets.

They were walked through the long corridors of Buckingham Palace, and she looked around in wonder. Finally they arrived in a huge hall with golden sofas where they were left. A couple of silent minutes later John came through the doors and immediately threw his head back in frustration. Cheekily she smiled at him and waved. "Hi."

"Sherlock. Are you wearing any pants?" he asked as he sat down beside the detective. "No." "Okay." For a second they were silent before all of them burst out laughing. "Dear god Elizabeth! Why are you stilling wearing you pyjamas?" "I made her." "We are in Buckingham Palace!" "I know." They giggled some more. "I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." Which only made them laugh even more.

A minute later Mycroft entered with a heap of clothes and two men. They discussed the case and Sherlock was not having it. Mycroft insisted to get dressed but at this point she didn't really like Mycroft, so she wasn't going to get dressed. Which clearly pissed him off. Mycroft thought of himself as a rather powerful figure but she had heard the children stories, he was not intimating. At a certain point Sherlock got up and started to walk out. To her surprise Mycroft stopped Sherlock by stepping on his blanket which made it get pulled down to her hips.

But that wasn't all, Sherlock toppled over, landing face first on the floor. "Get dressed." "Fine." Mycroft handed her a simple black jeans and a shirt and pushed her towards the bathroom. Eventually Sherlock decided to take the case. She begged him to let her come to the house of Mrs Adler. She wanted to meet the woman that was making Mycroft's life hell, but nooooo. She had school. She had to study! No time for cases!

So Monday when she came home after school she let out a startled gasp at Sherlock's face. Red marks were spread across his cheekbones along with a nasty cut on his right cheek. "What happened?" Sherlock barely looked up as he answered. "John hit me." "Finally snapped?" she joked. "I mean he was asking for it." "John!" "No literally, he was asking me to hit him." she grabbed the detectives face. "So you hit him with a stick." "A whip." Sherlock corrected her. "A whip? What on earth." "Calm down Liz. John merely punched me, Irene slapped me with the whip."

Elizabeth dropped herself down onto the sofa next to Sherlock. "Spill."

* * *

 **Chapter 55**

* * *

They told her about their plan, which was a good one, but kind of risky. When Sherlock told her about the fact the Irene had been completely naked she was impressed. This woman knew what she was doing and wasn't afraid to use her body as a weapon. But then he got to the part of the story where gunmen came into the room and prepared to shoot John she became furious.

"Mycroft must have known that you weren't the only people after that picture! He must have! He should have warned you, that prick." "Calm down Elizabeth." She grumbled but allowed him to continue. The rest of the story was pretty straight forward and funny. "So you found him, unconscious in the bed." John nodded with a smirk. "He was pretty pissed off."

Sherlock glared at them and walked away from them. "Sherlock! What are you going to do now?" "Nothing! She won! Game over." Elizabeth smirked at John. "He likes her doesn't he?" "Not sure. He is defenitly impressed by her. Not every day he gets beaten by someone. In both senses of the word." "He got beat by a jellyfish last year." She muttered underneath her breath.

"Drop it Liz!" Sherlock yelled through the doors. "It has been a year!" Though it was quite obvious that Sherlock kept an eye open for any news about Irene, or has he had been calling her The Woman. This amused her greatly, he didn't know what to really do with her so he mystified her by giving her a superhero name. The Woman. He saw her as the superior of her gender, and when she confronted him about it. Jokingly of course. John had claimed that she was jealous and then she started to call The Girl.

Another thing that made them giggle every time it happened was the text messages that Sherlock received. The first time it had happened it had been hilarious. They had all been sitting in the living room, Elizabeth with a book, John with his computer and Sherlock was staring into nothingness. It was a complete silence and serenity, a perfect scene. And then. In that silence. A sexy womanly moan came from Sherlock's pants.

They all froze. Before John and Elizabeth slowly turned their heads towards Sherlock with a look of absolute disbelief. Sherlock was still staring at the wall, but he was no longer in his 'mind palace', the bottom of his neck had gotten slight red tint. "Sherlock." She started but was interrupted by another moan. "What is that?" she laughed. "Nothing." "Oh bullocks." John yelled. "What was that?"

When Sherlock still didn't react Elizabeth leapt of her chair and dived for his pocket. "No!" the detective jumped out of the way, but John followed her lead and now Sherlock was trapped behind the sofa. No way out, Elizabeth on his left, John to his right. "What was it Sherlock."

The detective was getting slightly flustered. "A text message." He admitted. "Some people think it is funny to change the sound of the texts." John cocked his head with a smirk. "Your text don't always sound like that Sherlock. Who is it?" the silence was all she needed. "It is Irene isn't it!"

The detective rolled his eyes. "Omg! It is isn't it! You are still in contact with her! Do you go on dates?" "No I don't reply." "Why not." "None of your business John. Now if you don't mind, I am going outside for a while." She stepped to the side with a huge smirk on her face as he grabbed his coat and walked off.

As the door slammed shut John shook his head. "He is so screwed." "Oh! It is cute. Puppy love." "Sherlock might be a puppy. Miss Adler is a wolf." He settled back down into his chair. "He knows how to change his text tones, doesn't he?" "Yeah he does." She wanted to tease him with his crush but somehow it didn't feel right. She wanted Sherlock to meet up with Irene, for some reason they would look good together. By teasing him that wouldn't happen.

Those suspicions were only confirmed when on Christmas received a little present from The Woman herself. It was a phone. Initially she had been exited, maybe this would be enough for him to get reply to her. But to her horror he had afterwards called Mycroft to say that Adler would die soon. She was horrified when Sherlock came home on day, clearly upset.

She had pressed the issue, and he had finally snapped. "She is dead okay." "What?" "The Wo. Irene. She is dead." "How did?" "The phone she send me was her only security. Without that the people got to her. She is gone now." She hadn't been sure what to do, how to comfort him. She placed her hand on his knee and leaned against him. "I am so sorry Sherlock. I know what she meant." "It doesn't matter." Before she could even try to say something to him he had gotten up and left the room.

Afterwards he had pretend everything was fine, and whenever she tried to breach the subject he avoided it. Eventually she decided to drop it, not knowing what else she could do. But they moved on with their lives, or at least they tried. Just after New Year as she was walking home from a friends a big Mercedes rolled up next to her and a young woman stepped out.

"Miss Elizabeth." "Tell Mycroft he can always just send a text. Or an email." She groaned but didn't object as she stepped into the car. "What does he want?" no responds. "Fine." They rolled up to an abandoned building and the car stopped. "Here? Really?" No responds. "My god. That man has some real problems." Elizabeth grumbled as she walked into the building.

"Mycroft!" she yelled into the corridors as she wandered around the rooms. "Come out come out wherever you are." "Hello Elizabeth." The second a feminine voice respond she spun around. "Who are y…" her voice drowned away as she recognized the figure. The long thin body, slightly pale, the bright red lipstick, short black hair put up with a long black dressed draped across her. "You. You are dead." Was all she managed to get out.

"Well clearly I am not." "How? No wait. Why? Why would you pretend to be dead? "DNA records." "Yeah sure, you manipulated your way out of every situation. Let me guess. You knew what he liked?" The seducer smirked. "Indeed. However I need a favour." "You need a favour." "Yes I need you to." "You need a favour?!" she interrupted her and stride forward till she was almost touching her. "He believed you little stunt. He believes you are dead." "I know, that was the point."

"Sherlock doesn't care about a lot of people. He doesn't let a lot of people in. But he cared for you, and you made him believe you were dead. How cruel can you be?" she seemed slightly taken aback by the revelation. "It was for his own good." "Bullshit." "He couldn't." "No I don't want to hear it. You go over to him and tell him you are still alive." "I can't." "Yes you bloody well can!"

"How on earth do I do something like that?" "It is actually pretty simple." Elizabeth growled. "Just fucking show up or text him, you seem to be able to do that with no problem." "That isn't normally the kind of stuff I text him about though." "What do you send to him?" the lady smiled a little.

"Mostly just ask him to dinner." "You flirt with him?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. "At him. He never replies." "Oh. You must be pretty special then. He always needs to have the last word. The prick." Irene laughed loudly before conceding. "Fine. Fine. Look. _I am not dead, let's grab dinner._ " "Good." She turned on her heels ready to leave. "Wait a second! We aren't done here! I called you over for a reason Elizabeth."

"The favour." "Yes, normally I would get John but he is a little bit occupied at the moment." That was true, the doctor had spent a lot of time in his practice the last couple of days. Suddenly a moan came through the building. "Sherlock?" Elizabeth whispered. "I think so." the teen rushed through the door to find the detective, but he had disappeared. "How much do you think he heard?" she asked the dominatrix. "I have no idea."

"I have to get back home." "Let me help you." "You have done enough damage." "I did what you asked of me Elizabeth. Don't be rude." "If you don't want people to be rude to you, don't pretend to be dead." "Still on about that? Come on. A taxi will take forever, let my driver bring you back to the flat." "Fine." They walked outside together, she might not want to admit it after the stunt she pulled but she admired The Woman greatly.

She was like the female version of Sherlock but more manipulative and guarded. Oh god, Sherlock had a crush on himself. Figures. "You know Elizabeth." Irene pulled her out of her train of thought. "You have quite a spirit, you will grow up to be a rather powerful woman I think." Elizabeth turned to her laughing but found that she had disappeared. "How on earth?" she muttered to herself before throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "Nice to meet you by the way!" she yelled into the sky

A wolf whistle form her pocket made her jump and she pulled out her phone. _Nice to meet you too._ With a stupid grin on her face she got into the car and allowed herself to be driven back home. This woman is completely crazy. The drive home she spend in silence with a little smile on her face, though she was little concerned how Sherlock had reacted to the news. Surely he'd be delighted, shocked, maybe a little hurt, but delighted.

To her horror when she stepped out of the car a man dropped out of the window into the garbage cans. "Holy shit!" she leaped into action ready to help the man when Sherlock came out of building. "Dear god Sherlock. What happened?" Sherlock looked pissed, furious. "He hurt Mrs Hudson." She stepped away from the groaning man. "He did what?" "She is okay now, inside with John. Go."

"Sherlock." "Go." "Sherlock. Make sure you hurt him." a sickening smile crossed his face before she stepped into the living room. Though Mrs Hudson was a little shocked and a bit scratched up, all in all she was unharmed. John was livid but he stayed calm for the landlady as they sat together at the table. When Mrs Hudson told them what had happened. How she had been dragged up the stairs and kept in the chair, how scared she had been. It made her blood boil. God she wanted to kill the man in the back yard, but she was pretty sure Sherlock was taking care of him.

"Did Sherlock tell you btw?" "Tell us what?" "Irene. She is alive." John's eyes grew in size in surprise. "No! She was dead. On the slab. Sherlock told us." "He didn't know John. He only found out about it now." Once Sherlock had taken care of the man and Lestrade had made sure they were all okay he spend all day trying to figure out the code of Irene's phone.

Elizabeth realised that Mss Alder had never told her what the favour was, but now that Sherlock knew she was alive they would fight it out among themselves. She was pretty sure that The Woman wanted her phone back, her insurance policy. Sherlock wasn't going to give it. No it was too good a mystery. 4 digits, 3 chances.

He had been so sure frustrated, and he spend hours on end just playing his violin, which ended up frustrating her as well. It got even worse when he tried 221B and failed horribly. Oh she was about to snap when one day after school she found her. The Woman was very much asleep in Sherlock's bed. Snoring slightly, it was adorable, and a little worry some. Should she wake her up? Should she let her sleep? Elizabeth decided to let Sherlock decide and she called him up to let him know that they had a client. By the time Sherlock was home Irene had woken up and taken a shower. She had given her some of her clothes and waited in the living room.

The face Sherlock made when Irene walked into the room with Elizabeth's- sweatpants and hoodie on was amazing. He stared at her as she dropped herself onto the sofa before glancing at Elizabeth. She shrugged. "Tea Irene?" "Yes, thank you dearie." As she waited for the kettle to boil Sherlock started to interrogate Irene. The Woman was rather illusive with her answers, instead demanding her phone of Sherlock.

Elizabeth desperately wanted to see some of the pictures on her phone, but she refused to do so. Suddenly Sherlock seemed to be in an incredibly happy mood. "What happened?" "I have got the code." Now that she didn't believe for a second, and when she glanced into the room she saw Irene with a smug smile playing at her lips. "No you don't." Elizabeth called back as she filled the cups.

She brought the cups inside as John was joking about baby names. Sitting down in the chair she watched Sherlock and Irene interact, something felt a little of. This woman. The incredibly devil was a master of manipulation, surely she must have some plan, something she needed Sherlock for.

She rolled her eyes as Sherlock rambled of his deductions before insulting John. However when Irene threatened to make Sherlock beg she spat out her tea in surprise. She knew the woman used sex as a weapon but dear god. The detective however seemed to be unaffected as he ordered John around. "You people are bonkers." She said as the two continued their little flirtations, she was on her way to her room when Sherlock got transfixed.

He kept on repeating 007 as a mantra before with a small whisper he said _Bond air is a go_. Sherlock settled down in the sofa with a sigh before picking up his violin. His mind was gone. "Okay. I am leaving Mrs Adler care to join me for a cup of tea." The request shocked John a little, but she knew that she would reclined.

"No. Thank you, I think I'll keep Mr Holmes campaign for a little while longer." Elizabeth shrugged and turned to the doctor. "Come along John. We are going." "We are?" "Yes we are. Hurry along." John grabbed his coat and followed her downstairs. "Where are we going?" "Out." "We can't leave Sherlock alone." "Don't worry, Sherlock can take care of himself?" "But Irene." "Oh come on John. Sherlock deserves a chance of happiness."

"But with her really? She is a dominatrix. She is manipulative. She is so so." "So perfect for Sherlock. And she defenitly cares for him." John raised his eyebrow. "She does. Not in the normal sense of the worlds. She loves to watch him dance, and he loves to dance for her. They are pretty cute together! But there is a slight complexation." "What do you mean?" "Something is off with her, she is playing a second game. But I am pretty sure Sherlock will figure it out."

The rest of the night they spend at a little pub just next to her flat. When they finally got home the flat was empty. Irene and Sherlock had disappeared. At first she wanted to smirk but the note on the table was enough to let her know that no funny business had taken place. _Big brother is watching, Apollo._

An hour later Sherlock came home with a scowl on his face. "Where is The Woman?" she grinned but his face just fell either further. "Did she break your heart? Or did you break hers?" she gave him a light shove. "Elizabeth. Could you, could you sit down, please?" The worry in his voice made her take a step back. "What happened? Is Irene okay?"

"No. Well yes. But it is in fact about her. Please sit." Carefully she sat down in the sofa and glanced up at the detective. "What is it?" "Turns out that she wasn't working alone. She had a second plan and a partner in crime." He swallowed slightly. "What does that have to do with anything? I mean, wasn't it obvious that she wanted something more out of this?"

"Yes, but it isn't her alternative motive that I am talking about. Though that on its self was bad enough. It is who she was working with." She shifted in the cushions uncomfortably. "Just tell me Sherlock." "Elizabeth, Irene was working with Moriarty."

Her heart dropped and she sat backwards in the sofa. "Moriarty?" "Yes. I am sorry Elizabeth. If I had known." "It is okay Sherlock." "No it isn't." "Yes. It is okay. I am okay. I just need a second." She said as she rose up from the chair and made her way to her room. John got up to follow her. "Alone. I need a second alone."

The second the door slammed shut as she dropped on the ground. Her back slammed against the door and she dropped her head in his hands. It wasn't okay. She had trusted her. She liked her. Admired her even. And to find out that she worked with him. It made her sick in the stomach. She had been in her home, she had given her her own clothes. Surely Irene had known what Moriarty had done. Then why had she agreed her to work with the man. That night she didn't sleep.

* * *

 **Chapter 56**

* * *

It took her a while to calm her nerves after that. Just the idea that she had willingly worked with that monster and then they had helped her with her problems. Sherlock had also been thrown off by the development and had buried himself in case after case. He didn't call her The Woman anymore, if he spoke of her which he rarely did, he referred to her as The Mistress.

John was just pissed of the entire time. It was clear that he felt that they should have seen this coming. He never trusted her. Never really liked her either. All three of them wanted nothing to do with her ever again. So when Moriarty told them she had been killed, there was no mourning in Baker Street.

Over the next couple of days there were several interesting ones but none were as horrifying as _The case of the Woman in White_ as John had called it on his blog. It started with Lestrade coming into the room with a very distraught young woman. She was not dressed in white, she wasn't the woman in white. No she was a client who didn't know what was going on in her life anymore.

It was on a weekend so Elizabeth decided to sit in on the case. "Need your help with this one Sherlock. It's been in the news for a while now, you might have heard about it." "You'll have to give me a little bit more information Lestrade. Even I am not that good."

Greg did his best to suppress a content smile at the acknowledgement of his limits. "This is madam Bizon, and her husband disappeared yesterday." A spark of recognition came into the detectives form. "Ahh… The missing men." That was enough to get Elizabeth and John's attention. "I have told you before Lestrade. I am not interested."

"Sherlock please. We are at a l…" "Not interested." Sometimes it was really hard not to slap Sherlock on the back of the head. She didn't have to do it though as John took action into his own hands. "Tell me what happened Greg. We'll convince him." With a sigh the officer settled back down onto the chair putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.

She took a deep breath and started. "My husband was a good man. A really good man. But he had his flaws, when he had a drink his judgement wasn't always amazing. He had trouble staying faithful sometimes." Madam Bizon looked into her lap as if she was embarrassed for her husband's faults.

"I almost left him when he came home with that last skank. Brought her into the house while I was at work. We had never had such a big fight, and at the end I kicked him out. I had the divorce papers ready to go but he begged me to give him another chance. I refused, but before I could make him sign the papers he had disappeared. Two months later he came back to the apartment.

He had the same flowers he had on our first date, my favourite movie and candies. He told me that he had gone to a clinic, he hadn't touched a drink in 2 months, he asked me to start over. To give him another chance. I did. That was two years ago, he hasn't slipped up since and I couldn't have been happier." A happy smile was on her face at the memories as a lone tear ran down her cheek.

"Everything was perfect, until yesterday night. Yesterday they find my Adam in the river." She choked on that word. "Take your time Ms Bizon." John handed her a tissue as she continued. "He had driven himself of the bridge a mile out of our neighbourhood. They said he had been drinking. But he hadn't! I swear to you! He hadn't been drinking! He wouldn't have!"

Lestrade slowly rubbed circles on her back to calm her back down. "It is okay Ms Bizon. It is okay." "No offense Lestrade but I don't understand why you need us? It might have just been an accident." "He wasn't drinking!" "I know Ms Bizon, but this case is pretty straight." Elizabeth shut John up. "We believe you Ms Bizon. We believe you. The thing is just that this is not normally the case that the police call a consulting detective on."

She calmed a little and nodded. "I am sorry. It is just, what they have been saying in the news. It is all lies." "We believe you." She reassured her again. Greg smiled gratefully at her before continuing. "But that is not all. Cases like this have been coming up like this for the last couple of weeks. 7 men over the last 6 weeks all over the country. All of them found dead at bridges and all of them supposedly had been cheating on their spouses one way or the other."

"Not Adam!" she clarified one more time. "Except Adam. But that is all they have in common. They have no other ties with each other. We think it is a serial killer but we have no way of knowing who did it." confused Elizabeth turned to her friend, who had been sulking in the kitchen as they listened to the narrative. "Why don't you want this case Sherlock? Sounds pretty interesting to me."

The man just sighed. "It just isn't all that interesting! I mean people drive of bridges all the time." The woman let out a sob again. "Sherlock." "It is true. Doesn't mean you can't behave!" With a dramatic sigh he turned around and walked away. "We will take with him. Don't worry Madam." The woman got up and pulled Elizabeth into a hug, not noticing her tense at the touch. "Thank you so much!"

Greg slapped her on the back, shook Johns had and let the woman out of the flat. "Sherlock!" "No! I don't want to!" "God you are such a kid!" John snickered at the interaction. "Come on Liz. We can look into this for now. He'll come around." "No I won't!" "Shut it Holmes!" she could hear the older man grubbing in the kitchen but he did leave them alone.

Thanks to Lestrade's help (and Sherlock's hacking tactics) they had quite the police records to go through. Elizabeth quickly scanned the list of cases that Lestrade had told him about. First victim was Filip Sam, he had died just outside of London. Then it had been George Potter and Mick Adak, they had been killed within two weeks of each other. George had died in Cambridge and Mick in Liverpool. The next victim in Cardiff was a John Doe, no identification. Or at least no name. A couple of woman had claimed to be his girlfriend. They all had different names. That was four. After that there had been nothing for a week. Then 2 victims turned up in Southampton, 3 hours apart from each other. Alex Ivy and Frank Gothenburg. The last victim had been Adam Bizon, again in London. She didn't bother putting their names through any of the normal search engines. That wouldn't work at any point, police would have tried that.

She let John pull at the records while she looked for any relevant cases. Sherlock was right about one things, a lot of men drove off bridges by accident. With a sigh she widened her search perimeter. "Sherlock get me some tea would you?" "I am not you servant!" "Tea please!" A couple of minutes later a cup of tea stood beside her on the table with some biscuits.

"Am I not getting anything?" John asked. "Nope!" she tossed the doctor a biscuit as they continued on working. As she read through the files she kept on going further and further. She knew for a fact that serial killers sometimes didn't work for months on end. So who knew? Maybe this mysterious asshole had done this before. She got a little carried away as she scrolled through all of the stories, no longer checking the dates. To her surprise this paid off as she saw that 2 years ago 10 more men had died under the same circumstances.

4 years ago another 10. 6 more another 10. 8 years ago it had been 12. But before that there was nothing. "John. I found something." "What?" "They did this before." "What do you mean?" "The killer has had done this 4 more times, but they always have a break of 2 years. A break of 2 years and then 10 dead people." Apparently that was enough for Sherlock to pop his head back into the room. "This isn't the first time this happened?"

"No. The kills weren't always connected. The one of 2, 4 years ago and 8 years ago were all seen as accidents. The one of 6 years ago were connected but is a cold case right now." "Are you sure that is all?" "All? That are 49 bodies!" "That is two to many." Sherlock noted. "Interested again?" "Just tell me what happened." "In 1999 12 people were killed. In one of the cars were 3 men instead of one."

"I'll take the case." "What?" "You heard me. Call Lestrade if you want, I am on the case." "But why? An anomaly makes everything more interesting." "Sure it does." She rolled her eyes but none the less she was happy he had come around. "Okay. Let's see if we can go see the cars." "Which ones?" "All 47 of them."

John picked up his phone and called Lestrade, while Sherlock grabbed her to go downstairs and grab a cab. "Next time lower your ego and just take the case." "What are you going on about?" "Don't try and bullshit me Sherlock. The entire time you were just waiting to find a reason to jump on the case. Not because you say you aren't interested that it is in fact true." "I don't." "Oh shut up. I might not be able to deduce what someone's job is but I can still see when you are lying."

Giving in he nodded and got into the back of the cab, quickly joined by John as well they headed to parking lot where the cars of the most recent victims had been stored. The other cars had been destroyed, as expected. All they had were pictures, which frustrated Sherlock immensely, but it would have to do.

Elizabeth didn't really know what to do as she watched him circle the car as a vulture. A chuckle escaped her as the forensic scientist walked around him, not sure what do with him. He took 20 minutes with every car, luckily they had gotten used to it. Elizabeth always carried a pack of cards with her in case something took too long and Sherlock didn't let them into the loop. Like now. 2 hours and 20 minutes later he was done.

"Anything interesting?" "No. Nothing out of the ordinary. Interesting." "Yeah sure. Why is that interesting?" "Because the cars are all in perfect condition. If anything had happened it would have shown at least a little. Even if they had just been drunk. There should have been signs."

Sherlock didn't say anything till they were back into a cab. "Saint-Bart's hospital. Time to pay Molly a visits." Elizabeth liked Molly Hopper, don't get it wrong. She was a kind and clever girl, but her obsession with Sherlock was frustrating. In the beginning she had despised seeing her.

All the woman would do is drool at him and do literally everything the detective asked of her. To add to the frustration Sherlock was oblivious to it until John pointed it out. After that he had just used it to his advantage. However it had changed a lot over the last couple of months, she had gotten a grip on herself. She had gotten newfound respect for the woman, she knew her subject and had gotten over her silly crush.

One week while John and Sherlock had popped off too somewhere they had called Molly to check up on her. Normally Mrs Hudson would take care of her, but she was on a holiday with a friend. John had decided to ask Molly to take care of her, probably because he had noticed her slightly hostile behaviour towards her.

To her surprise Molly was an incredible person to be around when Sherlock wasn't with them. She was clever, funny and happy to talk with her about Sherlock shenanigans. She also showed her around the morgue and thought her a lot about autopsies. After that they had been pretty good friends, from time to time they went to grab a cup of coffee after school.

Now is Sherlock tried to pull any tricks on her she'd scold him. "Hey Molly!" "Liz!" Molly laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Didn't know you were coming by. Hey John. Sherlock." She gave John a quick hug and shook his hand. "How can I help you?" "We need to see the victims of the recent killings." "You mean the car accidents?" "Yes." The woman let out a loud sigh. "Okay, but they are pretty nasty."

They followed her to the morgue where she opened on of the drawers. "This on is Adam Bizon. The other 5 are on the slabs here." "5? There were 7 killings, you missed one." "No, the first victim. Filip Sam has been cremated." Sherlock threw his hands in the air in annoyance. "Fantastic! Fine we'll make do. Thank you Molly. We have it for now." Molly waved at them before leaving them in the room.

Elizabeth had been in the morgue so many times, and seen so many dead bodies but even for her this looked horrible. Adam still looked okay, but the other people were all horribly decomposed. "God." "If you want you can wait outside Liz." "I think I might John." She stepped out and took a couple of deep breathes, god it stank in there. She decided to grab a coffee from the shop at the other side of the hospital.

When she left the building however someone bumped into her shoulder, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. "What the?" A sudden dizziness hit her hard, she had been drugged. Grabbing her shoulder she stumbled back to the hospital in terrified but a soft hand grabbed her shoulder. "No. God no." she whimpered as she tried to hit her assailant, but everything went to dark.

* * *

 **A/N:** Don't get me wrong. I absolutly adore Irene Adler, she is amazing and extremly badass. However can't have someone working Moriarty live. It is rather unfortaned isn't it. Well anyway I hope you enjoyed the story! Thank you so much for reading this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5 - Time to get a coffee

**A/N:** Firstly I would like to say thank you to everyone who left a review. In particular **Sherlocked86** and **pallydeeks**. You two have been leaving me so many kind review and I just can't tell you how much that means for me. Every review you leave me is another reason for me too keep writting. So thank you! Honorable mentions go to **LaurenB16** , **Anna** and **Chessa.** Thanks for also leaving so many kind review! You guys are awesome!

Secondly I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 57**

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When Elizabeth didn't show again after 40 minutes John decided to take a look. He knew he was probably being a bit paranoid, she was probably just talking with Molly. However he always felt a little worried when it came to Elizabeth. "Going to check on Elizabeth." Sherlock simply let out a little grunt and the doctor let the man continue on the body.

He walked into the cafeteria. "Hey Molly, have you seen Liz?" "No sorry. She not with you?" a tinge of worry laced her voice. "Don't worry. She said she was going to get some air. She is probably just outside." "Need me to help you look?" "No, thank you though." He gave her a little wave as they walked out of the room.

Opening the doors of the hospital he looked for Elizabeth but the streets were almost completely empty. Maybe she was at the coffee shop on the other side of the road, they made a pretty good mochaccino and Elizabeth was always dragging them along. But she wasn't there. A tiny bit of worry started to grow into his stomach as he stepped outside again. "Elizabeth?" he yelled into the street.

A couple of people turned around in frustration. Grabbing his phone he dialled her number, but it went to voice mail. "Elizabeth where are you? Could you call me back?" He looked around in the street again before he hurried back into the building. He checked the morgue first, maybe she had gone back inside. "Did Elizabeth came back inside?" "No why?" Sherlock mumbled as he continued on the dead men. "I can't find her."

This made the detective look up. "What do you mean, you can't find her." "I mean I can't find her Sherlock. She isn't inside or on the street." "Did you check _The Black Peter_? She loves that damn place." "Yeah, she isn't there. She didn't pick up the phone either." The detective swallowed hard and whipped his hands clean on his pants.

"Are you sure she isn't in the building." "I mean she wasn't in the cafeteria or morgue. Why would she be anywhere else?" "Check the building John. I'll look outside." John nodded quickly before ran up the stairs to look for her, as Sherlock made his way to the street. Once outside he started to look for any kind of clues to where she had gone off to.

He was halfway down the street when he stopped in his tracks. On the ground were a couple of drops of coffee. He dropped to the ground and smelled it, mochaccino with chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream, Elizabeth's favourite. He got up and looked around and hurried to find a cup in a garbage can.

He carefully took the cup out of the trash and checked it for anything that might let him know what had happened. Though he had a sneaking and horrible suspicion what had transpired. The cup was completely dented and had fingernail imprints in it. Someone else had tossed it in the trash. He ran back into the hospital. "John!"

The sound of thundering footsteps announced John and Molly running downstairs, he pulled out his phone and called Lestrade. "Did you find her?" "No. I think someone took her. She is in trouble." Johns face turned ashen. "There is a cup outside, check for prints. It is in the trash." Sherlock said before turning to the phone. "Lestrade, I need you to come to Saint Bart's." "The hospital?" "Yes Lestrade the hospital!" even when Sherlock was in a good mood he was intolerable, but now he could would probably snap someone's wrist if they looked at him wrong.

"Did someone get hurt?" "It is Elizabeth. I think she is in trouble." "Elizabeth?" "Yes! Are you deaf as well as stupid!" "Hey! I know you are worried but behave! I am on my way. What do you know?" the detective took a deep breath.

"I think she's been kidnapped! Molly is running prints right now." "Prints?" "I found a cup. It was Elizabeth but someone tossed it away." John and Molly hurried back into the building with the cup, and Sherlock followed them up the stairs. "I am on my way Sherlock. Stay calm." Sherlock turned off the phone and waited as Molly took the prints.

The second she put the cup back down him scooped it up and sat down at a desk. John paced up and down the room, trying to call Elizabeth but she didn't pick up. He wanted to help one way or another but he had no way to help. "Can I help?" "No." John dropped down onto a chair and dropped his head in his hand, running his hand through his hair.

They had to find her. They had to find her, she couldn't go through that again. They wouldn't let her go through that again. Suddenly they heard someone run up the stairs and Lestrade shoved opened the door. "What happened?" "We don't know yet. Isn't that your job?" Sherlock snarled as he continued ran test after test.

Before anyone could tell him to calm down Molly interrupted them. "I have the print, I'll run it through the system." John couldn't help but hold his breathe as the computer ran. "How do you have access to this?" Lestrade looked over her shoulder in curiosity. "Sherlock." She replied as if that explained everything, which was true.

"No match." Sherlock swore as John kicked the wall. "I have the security tapes!" the detective yelled as his phone lit up. He grabbed the computer and pulled up a file. "Okay, let's see what we can find." Sherlock dropped his lab work and joined them as the agent started up the video. The footage was a little gravelly but it was better than nothing.

They watched Elizabeth stepped out of the building and walk into the coffee shop. The teen came out 2 minutes later with her coffee in one hand and crossed the street again. She stopped a couple of meters away from the hospital doors and took a sip while looking at around. They watched as a woman came from around the corner and made a beeline to Elizabeth. Molly looked away as they saw the woman raise her arm and shove something in the girl's neck.

Though they couldn't see her face they could see how terrified she was. Elizabeth turned around shakenly and tried to push her assailant of her while stumbling to the hospital. But a hand wrapped grabbed her shoulder and pulled her backwards. The cup dropped from her hand as she went slack into the arms of the strangers, who managed to grab the cup before it hit the ground.

A car pulled up to the curb and Elizabeth was quickly dropped into the back seat while the cup was tossed in the garbage. For a while they couldn't see what was going on as the woman was in front of the door, doing something to Elizabeth before the car slammed shut and they drove off. "A license plate. Tell me you can get the license plate." John begged desperately. "I am working on it." Lestrade's fingers ran over the keyboard as he enlarged the picture. _EBZ 6663_

"I'll have a bolo put out for it, we should find it soon enough." Sherlock was already back on the cup, but it was a frustrating process, there isn't really a lot you kind find on a plastic cup. Meanwhile John and Greg were going through the frames trying to get a good look at the woman's face, or the face of the driver. Stress was boiling up in John's stomach, Elizabeth had been missing for almost an hour, who knows where she was right now.

10 minutes later Sherlock through the coffee across the room with a yell. "Nothing! Nothing at all! How can there be nothing!" "There wasn't nothing on it. We had a fingerprint!" "It isn't enough!" He screamed. All three looked up in surprise. John made to go talk to him but Lestrade beat him to it. "Okay Sherlock, come with me."

He grabbed the detectives arm and dragged him through the door into the hall way. Sherlock pulled his arm free. "Listen here. I know that you worried about Elizabeth. I know you care for her. I know she means a lot to you. I also you know it is hard for you to express your feelings and you aren't used to this kind of emotions." "What are you doing?" "No listen Sherlock. Just listen for a second okay."

"We are going to find her, I promise you. She is going to be okay. But you need to stay calm for me. You need to stay calm for her. This is difficult for everyone. We all care for her okay, but if we don't keep concentrated then we won't get anywhere." Sherlock rubbed his hands in his face in frustration. "God." He whispered. "It is just. If something happens to her. If she gets hurt I don't know what I would do. She's already been through so much."

Lestrade placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him into his chest for a hug. The man stiffened into his arms, not used to the sudden contact. Though ever sins Elizabeth moved in he had gotten more used to hugs and just the feeling of someone else touching him. Finally he gave in and rested his head in the crock of the older man's shoulder and allowed himself to be held for a little while.

His body was shaking slightly, letting go of the pain. "It is happening all over again. It is happening all over again." "Hey, no it isn't. This isn't Moriarty, Sherlock. This has nothing to do with Moriarty, she'll be okay." The curls rubbed against his neck as he shook his head. "You can't know that. Only a week ago one of Moriarty's lackeys was in our home. We didn't even know it. He is toying with us. What if he has her, again?"

The detective rubbed his back softly to help him calm down. The younger man let go, he allowed himself to feel for once. He allowed the grief and worry that was eating him up inside to come out instead of anger and frustration. Before he really realised it he threw his arms around his back and clutched the fabric of his shirt. He was shaking slightly and his breathing was irregular.

Lestrade put his hand in his hair. "She is going to be okay Sherlock. You have to belief that. You have to." He nodded slightly. "Can you do that Sherlock?" "I don't know. But I'll hold myself together." He pulled away from the agent and his face was open, emotions on display. He pulled his suit back straight, looked him over before nodding and walking back into the room.

The second John and Molly looked back at her his face turned back into a stone wall. They glanced at Lestrade who nodded quickly to let them know everything was okay. "Let's find her." "How do you propose we do that Sherlock? We don't have anything else we can do until someone spots car."

"I don't know about you but I am not going to sit here till someone see something." "What else can we do?" "We solve the case. We figure out who took Elizabeth and why." The look of distrust on his face made him realise that John didn't believe him. "You keep looking for a clear picture of the women's face. I'll do the rest."

He would figure it out. First question. Who had taken her? Not enough information to figure that out. Okay the next one was. Why? To broad a question. He needed something small to begin with. How had they known where she was? "Can I get the camera footage?" "Why?" "I need to know from where the kidnapers came from. Maybe we can trace them through the other cameras in the city."

"You don't think we have tried that Sherlock? The car comes from a blind spot, we can't find it after that." "There are no blind spots." "In some places the cameras aren't always." "Yes, yes I know." He interrupted John. "But big brother sees all."

* * *

 **Chapter 58**

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She woke up with a start and a rather big headache. It took her a second to realise what had happened, for her to remember what on earth had happened to her. She rubbed her temples and looked around the room to figure out where she was.

She was on the ground that was the first thing she noticed. The cold hard floor, which was incredibly uncomfortable. Getting up slowly she was happy to find that she wasn't hurt or restricted in any way. The room she was in rather small and dark. A light hang from the ceiling but it didn't really give that much light, but enough for her to see.

In the middle of the room was a small metal table with an equally uncomfortable looking chairs on either side. There was a huge mirror on the wall opposite from her and she approached it carefully before pressing her fingernail on it. Though there was a reflection there was a small gap between her actual nail and the one of in the mirror. It was a One-Way mirror.

Elizabeth took a deep breath before taking a seat in the chair facing the mirror. "Ready when you are." She smiled at the glass. "Though I'll only talk to the person in charge." She hoped her relaxed posture and confident smile was fouling whoever was watching her, because she was absolutely terrified.

Turning her head upwards she found a camera in the right corner furthest from the glass. "I am waiting." She hummed softly. No one showed up for at least 5 minutes, and she did all she could not to tap her fingers on the tables surface or to twitch in the chair. Her breathing was even but her heart was fluttering in her chest.

She let out a deep breath when finally the door opened and a young woman entered. She didn't recognized her but the smell that followed her was one she remember. Mint chocolate. The same smell that had filled her nose before she had passed out in front of the hospital. Her kidnapper.

The woman in question seemed to be from an Indian decent. Her glossy, black hair was tied up in a black braid and came to her hips. She wore a bright red lipstick and winged eyeliner. She was dressed in a simple pair of black jeans, a red hoodie and yet black combat boots. Formidable yet casual, she could walk through a crowd without drawing to much attention but looked intimidating you were alone in a room with her.

"Hello Elizabeth. Don't worry, I am not going to hurt you." Her accent was there but not all that obvious. "Then why am I here?" "I am sorry we had to take you in such a violent way but we needed to talk with you." "No. Wait a second." She looked the woman over and smiled. "You aren't in charge here. I said I would talk with whoever is in charge."

"Very clever. I suppose Sherlock taught you some tricks." "I have nothing more to say to you." The woman chuckled slightly. "You'll have to deal with me." Throwing her an arrogant smile she made a point out of closing her lips tightly and leaning back in her chair. "Come on. I just want to talk." She merely shrugged.

"Fine, I'll talk you listen." When she didn't show any sign of reaction. "Okay, be that way. We don't want to hurt you. We just want you to talk to Sherlock." That spiked her interest, which despite her best efforts her kidnapper noticed. "You see, your friend is being quite the nuisance. He is poking his head in a case he shouldn't be. We need him to stop."

Elizabeth desperately wanted to ask why but she kept her mouth closed. "Listen Elizabeth. These men, they deserve to die. They are horrible, cheaters, they abuse the people who care about them. They get what they deserve." "Not Adam Bizon." It slipped out before she could stop herself, but she had seen his body.

He hadn't died on impact, he had died from drowning. It had been a slow death, stuck in his own car not knowing what was going on. She had also seen his wife, so completely hurt because of what had happened. The lady smiled sickly. "He did. He had done horrible things, not because he felt sorry for it that it was okay."

Anger flared in her chest and she was only keeping it at bay because she knew they were trying to get a reaction from her. So she swallowed down her anger and made eye contact with her. A challenge. So she continued to poke the bear. "I mean, it was rather easy to get him drunk. Once an addict always an." "That is enough Kritanta. Leave the girl alone. She is right that man didn't deserve to die. That was a mistake."

Both of them looked over in absolute surprise. In the doorway stood an older lady, her hair was pure white and came to her shoulder. She stood hunched over, her back not capable of standing straight anymore. Her skin was pale and wrinkled but her eyes they were bright blue and clear, focused. A dark black robe was draped over her skin, accenting the paleness of her body.

Her voice crackled slightly at the age, but it was a commanding voice none the less. "You can leave now." This clearly frustrated the Indian woman but she nodded her head and walked out of the room. "I am sorry Miss Elizabeth but I was hoping you would be willing to talk to my associate, wouldn't want people to think wrong of me."

"You have killed people. Quite a few in fact." "I have not." "Don't lie to me." "Please believe me. I am not lying." "Proof it too me." "I can't." "Then why should I believe you?" The old woman sighed defeated and slumped down in her chair. She would have felt guilty about it if the images of the crying Mrs Bizon didn't keep on filling her head.

"I understand the position you are in, but try to understand mine to Elizabeth." "I don't know your position." This seemed to amuse her as she chuckled. "Oh, how rude of me. In this mess I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Luthgard."

When she held out her hand Elizabeth felled compelled to shake it. To her surprise her grasp on her hand was strong and she shook it in confidence. The cold metal of 3 rings pressed into her hand. Two of them were completely identical, one gold and on silver they were on her left ring finger. The index finger was another golden thin band with a bright red ruby.

That moment they made eye contact she felt the sudden need to respect the woman. Though she was in her late 70 or early 80s she held her head high and spoke with authority. She acted like she was supposed to be respected, but not in the way as rich bratty assholes who had been given 'respect' by birth. No, she acted like she had earned it, which she probably had.

"Now. Every story has two sides, would you listen to mine?" taking a deep breath she nodded. "Thank you Elizabeth. You see, I was not lying when I said I didn't kill those men. I didn't have anything to do with their deaths. However the person who is killing them is someone I care deeply about.

I do not want to see her hurt." the intensity of how she said it send a shiver down her spine. "I have tried to convince her to stop. I have begged her and done everything short from locking her up to stop her. But she believes that what she is doing is right, and I can't say I don't agree with her. They hurt so many people, men, women, and children. All because they were drunk or just angry. She told me that if she didn't stop them no one would.

She believed that she was saving lives and doing good, she said that was why she was doing it. But I knew the truth, she was angry so angry, this wasn't justice, this was revenge. Nothing I said could convince her of that and I pushed too hard. I have never seen her so angry, she called me a traitor said I didn't understand what it had been like for her.

She made a mistake, didn't do her research. She killed an innocent man. All because I pushed her to hard." Luthgard looked at the ground and when she looked back up, her eyes had become rather sad. "When she killed Alex Ivy and Frank Gothenburg at the same time a connection was made, but they didn't have a solid lead.

She wasn't in any danger until they started bothering your friend, Sherlock Holmes. At first he wasn't interested but when little Mrs Bizon came along that all changed. But I can't let him find her, I couldn't let him do that. She didn't deserve to go to prison."

"She killed people." "She saved people." "That doesn't make it right!" The woman stared at her angrily. "Would you not have made the same decision?" "No." "If she hadn't killed them a lot of people would have gotten very hurt." "She should have gone to the police, she should have done it the legal way. No one had to die."

"Filip Sam. He had two girls, without a mother. One of them lost their arm because of him." "That doesn't." but she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "George Potter. Beat his wife till she lost their unborn kid. Mick Adak raped his daughter and let his friends rape his wife to make up for the drug charges. John Scofield."

"Who?" "The John Doe. Those woman he fucked, he stole from them. After that he tried to burn their houses down. Alex Ivy beat his children, put on of them in a roll chair. Frank Gothenburg burned his one year old daughter's entire side with boiling oil. Do they really deserve to live?"

"That isn't what is important, she shouldn't have killed them." the woman laughed. "So you would not kill someone to save someone else's life?" "No." a small smile crept onto her lips. "Then tell me about Peter? Did you not shoot him?" Elizabeth closed her eyes. "That isn't the same thing." She whispered.

"Is it not? If you hadn't killed him, you, Peter's entire family and Mr Watson would have been killed." "It isn't the same thing." The memory of pulling the trigger, the throw back of the gun, the cold metal in her hand, the sound of his body hitting the carpeted floor. "Would you not have shot him if you were given the same choice today?"

She shook her head. "Would you shoot him again?" "Yes." It came out broken. "Then tell me, why is it different?" "Because I didn't have a choice." "Yes you did." "No I did not! That isn't a choice that is as if someone asked you if you'd rather kill a child or a bird. That isn't a choice."

"She doesn't have a choice either." "Yes she does! I had too choices, neither of them good! I choose the less horrible of the two! She, whoever she is, has three choices and only 1 of the ends in death!"

"What might those be?" "She kills them, she takes them to court or she walks away! She has that choice and she makes the wrong one every time and now an innocent man is dead."

"You don't think she tried that? She lost her faith in the law a long time ago. Now you have that same choice every day. You always choose to walk away, leave them in their misery." She wanted to deny it but she lifted her hand to stop her. "Don't deny it. You do what most people do, you live your life. Maybe if Mr Holmes had become an attorney he could have done something about it, but he didn't. Because it wasn't interesting enough."

"I. We." "It is okay Elizabeth. I am not accusing you of anything, but don't judge her from trying to do the right thing. Don't condemn all these innocent people to a life of hell just because you believe that justice is always the right way. Even if she can save only 10 more families isn't that worth it."

"That isn't how it works." She whispered softly. "She killed an innocent man." "One innocent man to save at least 60. Kids Elizabeth, kids with their entire lives ahead of them." she swallowed hard, her surety slowly wavering. "And I promise you one thing, she will never make the same mistake again. She was horrified when she found out about it."

Elizabeth kept her eyes on her knees. "All I need you to do is call Mr Holmes and tell him that if he leaves the case alone you'll be released unhurt." "I can't." "Yes you can." The woman grabbed her hand softly. "Please. You are the only one who can help her. I am begging of you."

"What will you do with me if I don't?" Luthgard pulled her hand away from hers. "It doesn't have to come to that. I don't want to threaten you into this." "No offence but the threat is already there. You said it yourself, if he backs of I get released unhurt. So if he doesn't, I will get hurt. I would just like to know what you are threatening me with."

When the old woman leaned back into her chair and avoided eye contact Elizabeth let out a little laugh. "That is why I won't help you. Because now it is me, and you might tell me that is the first and last time it will happen. It is necessary. But what happens when someone else contexts the dots again? Because it will happen again. Who will it be that time? The son of a detective, the daughter of a police chief? Who will you kidnap and torture next?"

"I am not going to torture you!" "No, that is why Miss Kritanta is here, isn't it? To do the dirty work. When will you be the same as the men she chooses the hunt? How many children can you hurt before it is considered wrong? How many innocent men will die because you continue to protect someone? Tell me Miss Luthgard. How many lives will you ruin in the name of saving lives?"

"So you will not help me?" "I think you know the answer to that." Luthgard nodded solemnly before getting out of the chair. "I am really sorry about this, I wish this didn't have to happen." Elizabeth swallowed hard, her palms were sweating as she gripped the chair. "It doesn't have to. Just let me leave. Just let me go." Her voice sounded a little more terrified then she wanted it too. "I can't do that. Mrs Kritanta you can come in now."

The teen leaped out of her chair and tried to grab her arm to stop her but a strong hand encircled her wrist, pulling her backwards. "Please don't." she yelled as the door closed leaving her alone in a room with Kritanta.

"Luthgard! Please! Don't!"

* * *

 **Chapter 59**

* * *

With a quick twist she pulled her wrist free from her soon to be assailant and put the metal table between herself and her. The signs of her dread must have been obvious to Kritanta, her breaths were coming out in sharp burst, her eyes kept shifting to the door, and sweet was trickling down the side of her face.

"Calm down. I am not going to hurt you." The yet hung unspoken in the air. She watched the woman carefully as she pulled a phone out of her pocket, her phone. "What?" "We are going to give your detective a chance to save you." She rolled her eyes as she unlocked the phone with ease and called her friend.

Elizabeth glanced at the one way mirror. "If you do this you'll be no better than Moriartys or those men who you claim deserve to die." No answer. "This isn't the first time that this has happened to me." No answer. "You will adding scars to the ones I already have. You will add trauma's to the ones I already have. You will add to my nightmares. Whenever I look over my shoulder because something looks like someone. You will be just like him."

Kritanta looked at her with a slight hesitation when she started her rant. When she said that his had happened before, clearly she had not been informed. Elizabeth could hear the phone dialling. Desperate for a reaction that could stop things from escalating she grabbed the hem of her shirt and in a swift movement dragged it over her head.

Kritanta's eyes widen slightly at the thin, white, slightly raised scars on her stomach. Though it had healed mostly the letters were still clearly visible. However whoever was on the other side of the glass would see the real scars. The whip marks. She pulled down the side of her pants to show the JM burned into her skin.

"You will only adding to this. How are you any different from him if all you do is add to this?" Her head turned to the woman with her phone as the dialling stopped, Sherlock had picked up. "Elizabeth are you okay?" his voice was frantic, which meant he wasn't thinking fully logical. "Sorry to disappoint you sir but Elizabeth is a bit preoccupied right now."

"What do you want?" he hissed angrily. "What have you done to Elizabeth?" "Nothing sir. She is okay. For now." "I want proof." With a sigh she pointed the phone to her. "Sing little birdie, sing." She flinched at the mockery tone but did as she was told. "Don't give in Sherlock!"

"There she is alive." The Indian woman pulled out her gun and pointed it at her, a sign to keep quiet. "Now she will stay that way if you do what we say." "What do you want?" "Simple. Get of the case." There was a second of silence. "You want me to stop investigating the murder of all these men?" "Exactly. Do that and we will let her go safe and unharmed." Elizabeth swallowed down the need to yell at Sherlock not to listen, the idea of getting a bullet in her was enough to motivate her.

"Why?" "Excuse me." "Why do you want me to back down? How are you invested in this case? Are you the murdered?" she made to respond but Sherlock beat her too it. "No. That isn't it. Are you a victim of one of these men?" Elizabeth pushed down a smile at the realization that he was interviewing the woman.

"No, that can't be. You are acting to impersonal. You could always be a hired hand. But even that would mean that the person behind this is detached enough to think rationally and calmly. So what else could the reason be?" "This is not why we are calling Mr Holmes. Unless you want to see." "Sorry, not done yet."

The frustrated look on the other woman's face was enough to make her chuckle slightly. "So, the next logical step is that you want to protect whoever is doing the killing." "Mr Holmes! I must insist." "Oh I hit a nerve there didn't I. So why would you defend the murderer, unless you know the murderer." "Stop this! If you don't I will remove one of Elizabeth's finger."

This seemed to be enough for Sherlock to shut up, which she honestly didn't mind. "Good now I have your attention. If you don't back the fuck up Elizabeth will get hurt. I've seen her pretty scares, might add a few of our own." "An innocent man has died." "And an innocent girl will get hurt."

There was silence on the other side of the line. "I want to speak to the person in charge." "No can do Mr Holmes." "I have that right." "You have no such right. We hold the power." "I will not make any choice before I have spoken with your boss." "That is too bad for Elizabeth then. Goodbye Mr Holmes." Her phone was shut down and she swallowed hard.

The dark haired woman dropped the phone and with a sickening smile she stepped on it with her boots crunching it underneath the heel. "Maybe with some incentive he'll come around.

 _-John, Sherlock, Lestrade & Molly p.o.v-_

He was just about to call Mycroft when his phone rang, the screen lit up. _Elizabeth._ Quickly he pressed accept. "Elizabeth are you okay?" the second her name left his lips John, Lestrade and Molly were standing by his side. The relief he had felt when he saw her name on his screen disappeared when an Indian woman answered instead of her.

"What do you want from? What have you done to Elizabeth?" he noticed Molly grab Johns hand for support as they all felt the rush of worry. "I want proof." He hissed in his phone, he would not speak to anyone unless he knew that Elizabeth was still alive. When she yelled for him not to listen to her kidnappers, to not give them what they wanted his heart leapt.

At first he did not realise what he had said, just the sound of her voice was enough to calm him down. Then the woman took over again. "What do you want?" he asked again, nodding at the rest so they knew she was okay. When he asked him to stop investigating he was stunned. She was kidnapped because of that stupid case. It was ridicules. "You want me to stop investigating the murder of all these men?"

It seemed like an easy enough trade, he would trade Elizabeth for those douchebags any day, but then he remembered Adam Bizon and his wife. He remembered how she had asked him not to do what they asked from him. He had to try and at least try.

"Why?" Lestrade nudged him for an answer, but he waved him away. "Why do you want me to back down? How are you invested in this case? Are you the murdered?" John grabbed his arm this time when he looked over the man mouthed Elizabeth. She gave him another little shove, he was not going to forget what had happened.

"No. That isn't it. Are you a victim of one of these men? No, that can't be. You are acting to impersonal. You could always be a hired hand. But even that would mean that the person behind this is detached enough to think rationally and calmly. So what else could the reason be?" a small smile crept onto his face as the woman gave away the answers without knowing it. The small intakes of breath, the frustrated huffs, all of it.

"Sorry, not done yet." "Sherlock." John said urgently as he noticed the detective got excited and cocky. "So, the next logical step is that you want to protect whoever is doing the killing." When she let out an exclamation he grinned, it felt good to pin someone down and make them squirm again.

"Oh I hit a nerve there didn't I? So why would you defend the murderer, unless you know the murderer." "Sherlock!" John yelled this time grabbing his arm again. He was going to push them too far, he was getting too riled up.

However suddenly his composure changed and his posture straightened. He had over stepped, he couldn't believe himself. He had gotten too caught up in the game and for a split second he'd forgotten Elizabeth. How could he have forgotten something like that?

"An innocent man has died." They must be able to see reason, surely they would understand that something like that couldn't just be forgotten. "And an innocent girl will get hurt." he could practically feel her smiling at the responds, his heart dropping. He had to find a different angle.

"I want to speak with the person in charge." They had to let him speak to someone else, he wouldn't let them win. "I have that right!" he practically yelled into the phone. "Sherlock what is going on?"

"I will not make any choice before I have spoken with your boss." He insisted, panic was starting to cloud his judgement, he had to save Elizabeth. "That is too bad for Elizabeth then. Goodbye Mr Holmes." "Nooooo!" but the phone was already dead. "Sherlock? Sherlock? Is Elizabeth okay? Sherlock what happened?"

He turned to John with a look of disappear on his face, he had pushed them too far. He hadn't been able to protect her and now she was in danger because of him. "We have to find her. Now!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading! Leave a review if you liked it or have any comments on how to improve my stories!


	6. Chapter 6 - Time for a rescue mission

**Chapter 60**

* * *

With an air of relaxation the woman drew a pair of handcuffs from her pocket. "Now Elizabeth. Please don't make it harder than it has to be." A shiver ran down her back which had nothing to do with the cold air on her naked back. "Don't." she warned, but it didn't came out as a threat more as a scared whisper. "Have it your way." She smiled and started to step around the table towards her.

Elizabeth immediately walked around the metal table keeping it between them. As Kritanta reached the far end of the table Elizabeth launched herself to the door. She pulled at the handle but it was locked, completely stuck. She made to move away but a strong hand grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

"No!" she kicked out and threw her head backwards hopping to hit her chin. But she was a lot faster than her and she forced her onto her knees. Elizabeth tugged at her arm trying to free herself but she twisted her shoulder making her cry out in pain.

Distracted with the sharp pain she didn't notice the cold metal snapping onto her wrists. When the Indian woman let go of her she pulled at her restraints but her cuffs had been attached to the table, which was bolted into the ground. Her breathing was becoming more and more erratic by the second.

The familiar sound of a blade being pulled from a sheet and she snapped her head up in horror. A long sharp blade rested in the hand of her attacker and she chocked down a sob. "Please. Don't." Her shoulders were being held backwards at an awkward angle, the metal cutting into her wrists reminded her from the cuffs Moriarty had used.

The woman dropped down onto her knees so that she was level with her. The tip of the blade softly ran over the scars on her stomach, not hard enough to draw blood but red strips started to become visible. Elizabeth sucked in her breath as she watched the metal rewrite the name, bring back the memories of what had happened to her. "Did he do it quickly? Or did he watch you squirm underneath the knife? Did he enjoy doing it, carving his name into your skin?"

When she didn't answer the knife was placed onto her cheek. "Maybe I should write my name in your skin as well? Right here." The knife dug into her skin drawing blood from her cheek. Elizabeth pulled her head away but she grabbed hold of her face, keeping her still. "Now, what should I do?" The knife carved slowly around the shell of her left ear. "Do you really need both of your ears?"

"Please. You don't have to do this." Throwing her head backwards laughing. "Oh that is such a cliché! And I really do want to do this. That old coot is paying me quite nicely to do this." "I wasn't talking to you." She said, she glanced at the camera. "Don't do this." The grip on her jaw became stronger and made her look at them.

"Do you want to lose your tongue?" she shrank away from her. "Maybe I should have let you have your tongue. I quite like your attitude." The cold blade ran down her arm to her hand. "But you don't really need all 10 fingers do you." "Oh god." She whimpered. The knife ran further down her leg till it came to her toes. "You don't really use your toes either do you?"

Elizabeth pulled her legs closer to her, keeping it away from the knife. "Come on, nothing to say." She pressed the knife deeper down into her foot. "Tell me Elizabeth, what do you cherish more? Fingers or toes?" Still shaking she swallowed hard but kept her mouth shut, she wouldn't give her the pleasure of getting an answer. She wouldn't.

"Okay fine. Have it your way." She grabbed her hand and twisted it down onto the metal table before placing a knife at her right thumb. "No! Wait! Wait! Please wait!" she yelled as she tried to pull away her thumb. She paused for a second leaving the knife on her finger. "Toes or finger?" she repeated.

"Toe. Toe." she gave in, hanging her head and shaking. She smiled at her. "See that wasn't that hard was it?" the woman grabbed her foot and pulled it forward, sitting down on top of her leg to keep it still. "Now the less you move the less it will hurt." "Please, don't do this." She tried again. "Please! Just let me go! Don't become like the monsters you." She didn't get to finish her sentence, instead she screamed as the sharp blade came down quickly.

Her entire body was shaking as the knife started to cut into her flesh and then into bone. Even though she was using a considerable amount of force it still went at an agonizingly slow pace. Pain rippled through her body as the knife dug deeper and deeper till finally she got through it. Her voice was raw and sweat was starting to drip from the side of her face.

"Now to make sure you don't bleed out." She brought a lighter from her back pocket and lit it. Still trying to pull her leg from underneath the woman she pulled at wrist. The flame pressed against the thumb where her toe had been and burned her nerve endings. Finally they got of her leg and picked up her toe. Whimpering Elizabeth pulled her legs to her chest, her eyes were glued at the burned skin where her toe had been.

She had gone completely pale and was breathing hard. "I'll have this send to Mr Holmes, we will talk again soon. Unless if you would rather call him and ask him to back off." With considerate effort she raised her head and looked at the woman, standing in the doorway. "Fuck you." She spat at her feet. The woman merely snickered before letting the door fall closed.

She knew that people could still she her, through the camera or through the glass, but somehow because no one else was in the room she felt like she was alone. Curling up into a little bowl she hid her face into her knees and allowed herself to cry. Not again, this could not be happening again.

 _-John, Sherlock, Lestrade & Molly p.o.v-_

"What did you do Sherlock?" "They hung up." "What did you do?!" John yelled at him, making Sherlock flinch. "They are going to hurt her." he whispered. "God damn it Sherlock!" the detective ran his hands into his hair, panicking slightly. "We will find her." Lestrade tried to assure the two men.

"Not in time!" the detective yelled. "They wanted me to back of the case! I didn't agree fast enough! They will hurt her to make me do as they ask." Lestrade pulled in a shuddering breathe. "There is nothing we can do about that now." "How can you say that?" Molly yelled. "We can't. Now all we have to focus on is finding Elizabeth."

Sherlock nodded and dialled Mycroft's phone. "I am going to find out where that car disappeared of too. You focus on identifying that woman." John glared at him one more time before grabbing Molly by the arm and going back to the computers. Lestrade followed them but not before he squeezed Sherlock's shoulder.

"What do you want Sherlock I am busy." Mycroft sounded incredibly bored and frustrated. "I need you to find a car." "Get Lestrade to do it." "Wait! Don't hang up." taken aback by the hint of desperation in his brothers voice. "They have Elizabeth." Without realising Mycroft stood to attention. He knew how much Sherlock cared about the young girl, he was it in the way he talked to her.

He saw it in the way that he would comfort her with a simple touch. How he would smile when she walked into the room. It would have been cute if it didn't compensate his judgement so much.

"Sherlock I don't have time to." "Please Mycroft. They are going to hurt her." Sherlock never said please, especially not to him. "Fine." "A black SUV, license plate EBZ 6663. It was just outside of the hospital at 14:32." "I'll let you know if we find it." before the younger Holmes brother could say anything else Mycroft hung up the phone. He shook his head, his brother was letting his emotions get the best of him. It would be his end.

"I found something!" everyone turned to Lestrade as he pulled up a file. "I think I know might have kidnapped Elizabeth. She is known as Kritanta by the police and has been involved in several kidnappings and extortions, but no one can ever seem to get their hands on her. We know very little about her, but she demands a heavy price so whoever she works for has money."

"Does that help us find Elizabeth?" "No." "Then it is irrelevant." Sherlock joined John to help them looking until suddenly his phone rang again. "What did you find?" "Grocer's Hall Ct, 5th." "Got it." "And Sherlock." "Yeah." "You know you are getting to attached right." there was a second of silence before a soft click informed Mycroft Sherlock had hung up.

"I know where she is. Let's go." "Tell me, I'll call for backup." "Grocer's Hall Ct, 5th." They rushed down the stairs, anger coursing through their veins. They hailed a cab and they drove of full speed. Suddenly John's phone went off. "It is Mrs Hudson." He picked up and Sherlock could hear Mrs Hudson's frantic voice crying in the phone. "What is going on?"

John waved him of telling him to be quiet. "Calm down. What happened do you need help? Mrs Hudson?" the woman was crying into the phone when suddenly Johns face dropped and became white. "What?" "Oh god." "Yes we are on our way to her now. They won't hurt her again."

Sherlock heart felt like it was in a vice when he heard John say that. "We will bring her home. She'll be okay." She yelled into the phone again before finally ending the conversation. John slowly lowered his phone and turned to Sherlock. His eyes were filled with fury. "What happened?"

"A package was delivered at the apartment. It was left at the front of the door, not really meant for anyone. So she opened it." John closed his eyes before continuing. "It was her toe Sherlock." Sherlock's heart dropped and horror flashed over his face. "When we find them I'll kill them." John hissed between his teeth.

The rest of the drive the levels of anger kept on rising. By the time the car stopped John looked like he would slit their throat without hesitation, and Sherlock wouldn't stop him. Lestrade pulled out his gun and Molly grabbed a taser out of her bag. "Ready?" They grunted in responds and Lestrade tossed the door open. The building was huge and finding the right apartment might take a while, but they weren't messing around they would find Elizabeth.

-Elizabeth's P.O.V.-

She wasn't sure how much time had passed as she sat alone on the cold floor. Along with the constant pain in her foot memories of her time with Moriarty were flooding back. The pain he had caused her was worse than the pain she was feeling now, but that didn't make this any less horrible.

When the door slammed back open her heart stopped beating. The black haired woman stepped into the room with a huge smile, the knife hung on display at her belt. "We haven't heard of you detective yet." she mocked. "I don't think he really cares." She stalked forward and Elizabeth felt incredibly small when she spoke. "I want to speak with Luthgard."

Her voice was hors from the screaming, and it trembled slightly. "Now why would I let you do that?" She decided to ignore the comment. "Is she there? Behind the glass? Is she at least watching what she is putting me through?" her voice rose slightly. "Does she realise what she is doing?" "Silence." The kick came in quick and sharp, leaving the print of the boat on her cheek.

"Will you call your detective?" "Do it yourself." "Still so stubborn. Are these men really worth your pain." No, they were not. That was the immediate answer that popped into her head. "That isn't the point." But it is Elizabeth." She dropped to her knees in front of the teen, pulling out her knife. She let the blade run over the inside of her tight. "These despicable men deserve what is coming to them. Did you know that their wives and girlfriends didn't press charges when they found out that their men had been murdered?

They told the police they were happy that they were dead, and if they ever met the person that had killed them they would thank them." the knife stopped at her injured foot for a second before she ran it back up. "Not the wife of Adam Bizon." The torture merely rolled her eyes. "One mistake that will never happen again. Come on these men don't deserve your protection. So what do you say sweetheart? Help us out?"

Taking a deep breath she shook her head. "Fine. This time I'm taking a finger though." Elizabeth's eyes shoot open wide and horror rushed through her body. Keeping her fingers pressed together and making a fist. "That really isn't going to work. Now which finger should I take?" the tip of the knife ran over her knuckles "Come on, otherwise I'll take your right thumb."

Closing her eyes she whispered her answer. "A little louder honey." "Left middle finger." She whispered again. "Good choice." She grabbed her wrist and twisted it so she couldn't move it anymore. She brought up the knife and it came down with sickening strength. Elizabeth screamed.

* * *

 **Chapter 61**

* * *

When Elizabeth's scream ran through the building they all froze. The scream had been so fully of pain and despair it struck them down into the bone. "Elizabeth." Sherlock whispered. "Elizabeth!" immediately they ran towards the sound, going up the stairs in a hurry. The screaming held on when suddenly a door flew open.

John was the first to recognize the tall Indian woman who ran out of the door. With a snarl he fired his pistol at her but she was already around the corner. "I got it! You go get Elizabeth!" Lestrade yelled as he took off after her.

John, Lestrade and Molly rushed through the door and stood in shock at the site in front of them. Elizabeth was on the ground, chained to a table. Her face was as white as snow and her entire body was shaking. John and Molly immediately jumped into action ready to stop the bleeding or to do something to stop the pain, but there was little they could do. The smell of burned flesh lingered the room.

Sherlock stumbled forward and went onto his knees in front of the young girl. Carefully he grabbed her cheek and lifted her face so she looked at him. "Oh god Elizabeth I am so sorry." Her hazel brown eyes were swollen and red from the crying and a brown boot print was across her cheek.

She was shaking and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder. John managed to get the cuffs open and Elizabeth's entire body collapsed against his. He wrapped his arms around her sobbing form and stroked her hair. "We are getting you home."

With great care he placed his arms underneath her knees and around her chest, picking her of the ground. She cupped her injured hand against her chest and curled into his chest. As he stood up he made eye contact with John. The doctor wanted to hurt someone that much was clear.

Molly carefully placed a hand onto his shoulder. "They burned the wounds, there is no way we can attach the digit or toe back." She whispered to him, but apparently Elizabeth heard it, she whimpered and curled closer. Molly flinched at the reaction and pulled out her phone. "I'll let the hospital know what happened so they can prepare." They went to walk out of the room but John stopped suddenly his eyes fixed on the glass. "That is a one-way mirror." "Luthgard."

They all turned to Elizabeth. "What did you say Liz?" John asked softly "Luthgard, her name is Luthgard. She is the one who ordered this." "Where is she?" "I don't know. Maybe in the other room." John's form changed slightly before walking out of the room, gun in his hand. They heard the door being slammed open as they followed the doctor out of the room.

John came marching out of the room with an old lady in front of him. She held her head high as John kept the gun against her back. "This is Luthgard?" he asked. Elizabeth lifted her head slightly and nodded. "Yes." She snarled. "That's her." The woman looked at the Sherlock and the young girl in his arms and a look of regret flashed in her eyes.

They started on their way back down when Lestrade came panting from the corner. "She got away. I am sorry." He frowned when he saw John with a gun pointed at the white haired woman. "Who's she?" "Her name is Luthgard and she is that ordered the attack on Elizabeth." The agent frowned slightly. "She?" "Yes. Now can we please get Elizabeth to the hospital?" Sherlock burst out.

They quickly nodded and they hurried downstairs, Molly had gotten a cab (it was quicker than an ambulance at this distance). Sherlock carefully got in the backseat keeping Elizabeth in his lap, when John joined her in the back and Molly got in the front. "I'll take this one to the precinct." Lestrade said. "You guys go." John nodded in thanks and the cab drove off.

Once in the hospital Elizabeth was taken out of Sherlock's arms and the nurses took her to a separate room. Sherlock and John dropped into the chairs of the waiting room. "I can't believe we are here again." John whispered. "She doesn't deserve this." "No she doesn't. Maybe we shouldn't have brought her to London? Maybe she would have been safe back in Belgium."

"God. She has gone through so much already because of us and now this. I hate it." John leaned against Sherlock and the detective sighed loudly. "I know." Sherlock swallowed hard before he spoke again. "Maybe we should send her back." "What?" "Maybe we should send her back to Belgium. Back to her friends, she'll be safe there." John thought for a second.

"Do you really think she'll be safe?" He nodded. "I'm not sure, but we have to offer it to her. We need to at least give her the chance." "Okay. Okay, yeah we can do that." John sunk even deeper into the chair before suddenly jumping up. "Oh god! Mrs Hudson! I have to call her."

Sherlock watched the man walk away and burrowed his head in his hands, pulling slightly at his black curls. He hated that he hadn't been able to protect her. That she had gotten hurt even though they had promised it would never happen again. Plus he could have prevented it, all he should have done was give in to their demands. If he had just backed down Elizabeth would have been okay.

She had lost her finger and toe for what? So that he could catch the killer of abusive bastards that deserved death. He hadn't taken the case in the first place because of the victims. When Lestrade asked him for help and told him who the victims had been he had told him to sod off.

He had claimed it was because the murders didn't interest him that the case was boring but honestly he believed these men deserved death. Or maybe if he had gotten on the case quicker Elizabeth might have never been involved. Too many what ifs were playing in his head but one thing was certain. He could have prevented this from ever happening.

A couple moments later John came back and sat down. "She is coming over. She wants to make sure Elizabeth's okay. Plus I am pretty sure she is going to scold us." "It is the least we deserve." They sat in silence for a couple of minutes till a nurse came into their direction.

"You are Mrs Van Parijs legal guardians and the ones that brought her into the hospital if I am not mistaken." They both nodded. "She will make a full recovery, we treated the burns but they were pretty clean. She was pretty exhaust and in pain so we have given her morphine. She is asleep now, when she wakes up we will check her but normally she'll be able to return home."

"Can we go see her?" "Yes, of course." "Thank you." They followed him through the corridors and into Elizabeth's room. Her breathing was calm and well regulated, her hand and foot had been bandaged up. Hesitantly John grabbed her good hand, carefully rubbing his thumb over its back. Sherlock stayed at the end of the bed and just looked at them.

She looked about as relaxed as possible and he had the sudden need to crawl next to her and never let go of her. God she looked small wrapped in those sheets. Suddenly the quiet was disturbed by the frustrated voice of Mrs Hudson. "I'll go get her. You stay with her." John nodded absentmindedly and sunk down into a chair next to her hospital bed.

A few seconds later Sherlock returned with Mrs Hudson at his side. The woman let out a soft cry as she saw Elizabeth laid out on the sheets. "Oh my poor little girl." Her hand carefully stroked a couple strands of hair out of her face. "I should have never let her go with you." The woman whispered. "I should have forbidden it." Sherlock placed a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "This isn't your fault."

"Damn straight it isn't." she half shouted. "You two know better than anyone how dangerous these case can be. You should have kept her at your side at all time, or maybe not let her go on these cases at all! I am worried enough as it is with you two running around in these streets."

A nurse came back inside. "If you are going to make this much noise I have to ask you to leave. Miss Van Parijs needs her rest." "We are sorry, won't happen again. We are all just a little strung out." the nurse looked them over again before nodding. "Fine."

Mrs Hudson took the chair next to John and kept her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. Both of them were holding onto her as if they were afraid she could disappear in a moment's notice. "You are right Mrs Hudson. So right. Ever since we've gotten into her life she has been in incredible amounts of danger. We are going to give her the choices to go back to Belgium."

To their surprise Mrs Hudson laughed at that, which warranted a sceptical look from the nurse. "Oh please! Send her back to Belgium? That is never happening." "What?" "She loves you guys. She would never leave her out of her own free will. You are her family now. She already lost one, she is not going to give up another one."

"Then what can we do?" "Be her parents." This made both men sit up straighter. "You decided to become her guardians, to take care of her. Now that isn't just getting her food, a roof and a school. That means being a parent, not just a friend. Make the rules."

* * *

 **Chapter 62**

* * *

They stayed in the hospital by her side for two hours before she woke up. In that time Lestrade called to make sure that she was okay and to tell them that they had charged the woman they had found in the building. They were identifying her and would let them know if something happened.

The young girl stirred slightly and let out a pained moan. They watched as the young girl blinked into the painful light and twitched slightly. "Elizabeth." Sherlock said softly. John handed her a cup of water and helped her down it while Elizabeth just squeezed her hand slightly. "I was so worried about you sweetheart."

The girl turned towards the older woman and forced out a soft smile. "I'm okay Mrs Hudson." "Like hell you are!" she exclaimed, tears forming into her eyes. "You are in a hospital bed. The things those people did to you." Sherlock placed his hand on Mrs Hudson's shoulder to get her to stop talking as Elizabeth flinched at the memories.

"I'll go get a nurse, they'll check you over and then we can take you home." she smiled thankfully at him but frowned when Sherlock didn't met her eyes. "What is wrong with him?" "I am pretty sure he blames himself for what happened to you."

With great care she brought her hand to her face. She swallowed hard at the bandage covering her finger, or rather the stump. Mrs Hudson let out a little whimper at the wound. The girl pushed herself up with a slightly grunt. "Hey, hey stay down." John pressed slightly at her shoulders but she beat them away.

"I need to see it." She pulled the blanket away slightly till she could see her bandaged foot. It didn't look nearly as bad as her hand, or at least it didn't feel as bad. She didn't mind losing a toe. Oh god. She didn't mind losing a toe. How shit had her life become that that was a sentence she would ever think.

A laugh broke free from her lips and the two people next to her glanced disturbed at her. "Elizabeth?" "Ah my life is so fucked up!" Some more giggles broke lose which send her into a coughing fit. "Elizabeth!" John let out a yell of alarm. Sherlock and the nurse came in through the door quickly seeing her laughing like a mad woman.

"Oh my god! Why is this happening? What have I done to deserve this!" her laughing reached the point of no return and it slowly turned into sobs. Mrs Hudson looked horrified over from the men back to girl. John grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to get her to sit still. "Elizabeth calm down." "I am so fucking sick of this!" she laughed. "I didn't want this."

The nurse went to grab a sedative but Sherlock stopped him. "Get Mrs Hudson out of the room." "With all due respect sir, I think we should sedate her." "If you go anywhere near her with that needle I'll shove it down your throat." He hissed. John carefully let go of the hysterical girl's shoulder and guided the now sobbing older woman out of the room. A threatening glance later the nurse followed the duo.

The second they were gone Sherlock sat down next the crying girl and gathered her into his arm. She shoved at him, screamed into his ear, cried and laughed till finally her entire body went limp and she let her head fall down onto his shoulder. Her sobbing had calmed down but was still going as he carefully rocked her back and forward. "I've got you now. I've got you."

The fabric on his shoulder was drenched at this point and her fingers were intertwined with the front of his suit. "They can't touch you here. It is over." She shook her head. "It is never over. Never." "Yes, yes no one is ever going to hurt you ever again." "Don't." he could barely hear her as his shoulder muffled his voice.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Sherlock." Those words pierced his heart. "Elizabeth." "No. Don't promise me no one will ever hurt me again, because someone always will. You can't controle that. Just. Just promise me." she took in a deep breath. "Promise me you'll always be there in the end. Promise me you'll find me."

Sherlock pulled her closer into him and pressed his lips against her hair. "Of course Elizabeth. I will always be there for you. I am not going anywhere." She nuzzled closer to him, practically sitting onto his lap as he carefully rubbed her back and rocked them back and forward.

A couple of minutes later she had calmed down he carefully helped her out of the bed. She stumbled into the bathroom to clean her face and Sherlock let the other people back inside. "Let's go back home." "I need to check on her first." The nurse insisted Sherlock would have started an argument but John stopped him. "Let him do his job. It will take 5 minutes."

Sherlock nodded quickly and let the nurse pass into her room. "What happened?" John asked, his arm still around Mrs Hudson. "She had a break down. A trauma like this on its one would have been bad enough but with everything that happened before." "I know. I mean what did she say?"

"Not much. She just needed to let everything out, she just needed to let go. She made me promise we would always find her." John took in a deep breath and Mrs Hudson looked up at them. "You better make sure you never need to find her again Mr. You beter make sure I never need to see her laying in a hospital bed again. Not unless she's got a kid in her arms."

"Let's make sure that stays a long way away then." Elizabeth's soft voice came from the door opening, she was leaning on a pair of crutches, not letting all of her wait press down on the injured foot. John was by her side within seconds and placed an arm around her waist. "Come on, let's get you home."

A small smile crept on her face but it was a tired one. A couple of minutes later she laid curled up on the sofa with a cup of chocolate milk by her side and Doctor Who playing on the TV. It was an episode she had seen a dozen of times, it was such an innocent one. The 11th doctor saving Christmas while flying through clouds filled with schools of fish.

She needed a little familiar comfort right about then. Sherlock joined her, sitting at her feet a warm hand placed onto her ankle. At the end of the episodes her eyes felt incredibly heavy and Sherlock noticed how she was slipping into unconsciousness. "Okay, to bed with you." He said softly before picking her up, her good hand wrapped itself around her wrist making him stop in his tracks. "I don't want to be alone right now." she murmured. "Okay." John came out of the kitchen and stopped him, he watched the doctor bend down and press a kiss against the teenager's forehead. "Good night Liz." He smiled kindly at the detective and let him continue. By the time he reached Elizabeth's room she had already fallen asleep.

He tucked her in and carefully got into bed beside her, it reminded him a little too much of the months after her moving into the flat. As he pulled the covers over them she curled into him. She let out a little content mumble as he wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. He stayed awake for quite a while as she slept.

He just watched her breathing and moving slightly in his arms. An hour later the sound of her breaths lulled him into sleep as well. The next couple of days they kept Elizabeth home. John and Sherlock stayed home as well, making sure she was okay. Which she of course wasn't.

They would often find her just sitting, staring at nothing. They made sure to snap her out of those moments, it was never healthy for someone to get stuck into their own head. They hit an all-time low 4 days after the kidnapping, they had been discussing letting her go back to school in the next day or so when John had found her. She had been on the bathroom floor and the fine white lines on her wrists were open again, bleeding.

A small knife was in her hand and her body had been shaking. His heart had sunk when she looked up at him, her eyes red and empty. He had carefully removed the knife from her and bandaged up her wrists. The rest of the day he stayed at her side the entire time, making sure she wouldn't do something like that.

She didn't say a word that entire day and neither of them pushed her. Sherlock had made sure to clean up the blood before Mrs Hudson saw it, but she realised what happened when she saw the bandages.

Sherlock found her a couple days later in the same position. While he was cleaning her wounds she kept apologising. He tried to tell her it was okay but she just kept saying she was sorry. They called her therapists again and brought her there every day for 2 weeks till they got the all clear.

In school she didn't tell anyone what had really happened, but they could guess. Rumours quickly spread through the classes, no one would believe that she had lost a finger and a toe in an accident. So she hadn't even bothered to lie about it. Her friends had asked her about it once, they didn't ask again when she had thrown them a glare. Off limits.

Once Elizabeth was back in school Sherlock was back onto the case. Fury drove him more than justice, these people had hurt Elizabeth they deserved pain. Lestrade hadn't really gotten anywhere with Madam Luthgard Ballard. She refused to talk, the only thing they knew was what was in public record. Which was practically nothing.

Madam Ballard had been married to a Josef who had died 10 years ago from lung cancer. They had had a boy, Matthew and a girl, Lenna. Matthew was a lawyer in New York. The daughter was a doctor in Washington, or she was. The woman had disappeared from the face of the earth.

That made her a rather big candidate for the murders. Only problem they had no way to find her, all they had was a name and a picture. It wasn't all that hard to change your appearance and name. However Sherlock wasn't going to let her go, he manged to convince Greg to let her talk with the older woman.

"Mr Holmes. I was wondering when you would show up." her black dress been exchanged for an orange prison uniform but her hands weren't chained, why would they do that to an old woman?

"I was a preoccupied. Elizabeth has priority." He noticed her flinch. "You know what she wondered." He asked pressing down on the guilt she must felt. "If you were watching. She wanted to know if you heard her scream."

She cast her storm blue eyes onto the ground. "Well did you? You owe her at least that much." He snarled. "No." Sherlock throw her head backwards and laughed. "Of course you didn't. So do you ever think about her? What happened to her after you cut of her finger? After you had her toe cut off?"

The woman flinched as he raised her voice. "You know what happened after we found her? The things you did to her brought back a lot of memories. Do you know what Moriarty did to her?" the woman shook her head slightly. "First he kidnapped her, manipulated her into coming with him. Then he chained her up, had her whipped, cut, broke her hand, burned his initials in her skin, shocked her, forced her to kill a man, poisoned her and raped her."

The woman coward as he told her what had happened. "And after that." He hissed. "He killed her family and made her listen to his screams. And you. You ripped those memories back to the surface. You forced her to relieve those memories and added a couple of new ones." "I am sorry." Sherlock's eyes nearly disappeared into his hairline and he leaned forward till he was only a couple of inches from her.

"How dare you." The woman shrunk down into her chair. "How dare you apologise. You don't have the right. The only thing. The ONLY thing you could ever do to even make up for a fraction of what you did, is tell me where she is."

The second those words left his lips her demeanour changed, she sat up straighter and made eye contact with him. "I will never give up my daughter. Never." Sherlock growled like a caged animal. "I will find your daughter, one way or another. And I will drag her into the police station myself and I will personally make sure you end up in different prisons."

He practically spat at her before getting up and leaving the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoop whoop! We got to chapter 60 let's bring out the champaign. I thought it was high time for some more angst, so I went back to the classics. A nice old kidnapping can rarely go wrong. ;) Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7 - Time for a plan

**Chapter 63**

* * *

He passed Lestrade in the hallway on his way out, who grabbed him by the arm. "Hey. What are you planning on doing?" "Don't worry, I can take care of myself." "Sherlock." He warned. "Just be careful all right. They already hurt Elizabeth." "I know." The sight of the younger man's face was enough to let him go again.

Sherlock didn't get into the car, instead he walked through the streets focusing purely on the case. The crispy wind ran send shivers down his spine as he ran through all of the facts he had found. "He couldn't find her by figuring out her next target. There were too many potential victims running around in London, and who was to say she was even still in London.

Though a part of him didn't think she would leave the city, not with her mother getting in trouble. So he would have to lay out a trap, something that would be just too good to resist. He couldn't do it himself, or have John or Lestrade do it, they were too well know. Defenitly now that they had been a part of arresting her mother.

So they had to find a man, someone interesting enough to draw her out. They need to find someone who she could not resist. His head spun, best person for a job like this would have to be someone famous. His head ran through the possibilities. The best thing would be Moriarty. He was his family and putting him in a grave would probably just to make him feel pain.

However Mycroft didn't have anyone he love he could betray and if this woman did even an ounce of research they would figure out just how heartless he was. Plus he would never agree on putting his life on the line, especially not for Liz. He didn't like the young girl, he didn't like her purely because he cared about her. Anyway Mycroft is of the table.

So someone else. Someone powerful, well like, adored. So no politician, no one liked politicians. No it had to be someone who would cause a shock wave. But it shouldn't come off as artificial, there should be some rumours going around already.

The detective tossed his hands into the air and huffed loudly. He knew nothing about that topic! He didn't follow the gossip, he didn't know who had slept with who. That was the kind of things Elizabeth knew stuff about. He might have promised Mrs Hudson to keep her away from the case but he needed her 'expertise'.

He walked the rest of the way home, he needed to feel the cold air on his face. He pushed open the apartment door and knocked onto her door. "Liz? Can I come in?" no answer. "Liz?" nothing. "Elizabeth!" a tremor of terror ran through him as he threw to door open. "Whoa! Everything okay? Is there a fire?"

He let out a relieved sigh to see her sitting at her desk with her headphones on, blasting music. "Yeah, yeah. You didn't answer I thought." "I had slit my wrist for real this time?" the detective flinched slightly at the words. "What is it Sherlock? I am studying."

"Need your help?" now this caught her attention. "My help? With what?" "A case." She smirked then and leaned back into her chair. "Ah. Think I am stable enough by now? Think I can handle the big and scary outside world?" "You know that isn't what I think about you." "It kind of is though."

"Look, we have talked about this Elizabeth. Since you have come to stay in our flat you have faced several threats, some you don't even know about. You have been in danger too often and I can't let that happen anymore. You understand that right? I can't let you in on cases like these, they are too dangerous." "I can handle myself." "No you can't. You really can't. But that isn't your fault. Maybe one day, I'll let you back one or two cases, but not now."

Elizabeth knew she couldn't win this discussion, not this close after everything, so she gave up. For now. "You said you wanted my help." "Yes. I am working on the case of the car accidents and I need to draw the killer out." "Why?" "Her attacks are too random. I can't find her like this, we have no way of finding her. She is in the wind. So I need to draw her too me." "You need a bait."

He nodded slightly. "I need someone irresistible, someone that will shook the nation and piss her off big time. She is already on edge, her case has been in the news and she is being called a killer. But she sees herself as a hero. We need to give her a proper villain."

Elizabeth nodded along. "You want someone loved and popular." "Exactly. But it needs to be someone that has some kind of power, is seen as a ladies man but has rumours surrounding his relationship." The teen taught for a second before a small smile crept on her lips. "David Beckham." "Who is he?" she rolled his eyes dramatically at his ignorance.

"He is a football player. A sex symbol. Married with 4 kids. He is loved by all but he made a slip up in 2004. They said he cheated on his wife, Victoria Adams who is also very well liked, with a woman called Rebecca Loos." "Could work, but how can I contact him?" "No clue. You'll have to figure it yourself. Have Mycroft pull a couple of strings. It won't be easy to get to him."

"Okay. I'll figure it out. You, get back to studying." "I was studying until you decided to come along and distracted me." he went to ruffle her but she moved her head away from him. "Stop doing that!" he chuckled before leaving her alone. He walked back upstairs and dropped down on the sofa, grabbed his violin and started to play.

The tune was upbeat and active, she was sitting downstairs but she could hear him clearly. She left her books at her desk and closed her eyes, allowing herself to see the music. Every time Sherlock played she could see a scene. The first weeks in the apartment had been strange and she had been broken. The music then had been calming and southing, a small stream in a forest, the sun rising and falling, a flower blooming and a couple dancing.

It had helped her, she closed her eyes and she drifted to a place of peace. Now the image was very different, the tempo was so much more alive. It started off controlled and turned wild. She saw a large black wolf in a snow covered forest, stalking through the underbrush. The wolf prowled and sniffed the air, its calculating eyes studying the stars.

Suddenly its head snapped forward, its eyes focusing on something she couldn't see. Its muscles contorted, it hunched down, a trail of warm breath forming clouds in the night sky. The creature leaped up and with incredible speed took off into the woods. The wolf sprinted through the trees it's feet barely touching the ground as it chased its prey. A white figure was running in front of it, the shadows concealed it's from, but it was close. So close.

The wolf pushed itself harder, desperate to catch his prey, impossibly hungry for its taste. Suddenly they broke into an opening, the bright moon shone down onto the field and finally he saw what he had been chasing. A pure white doe. Its fur almost blending with the snow.

But the deer didn't stop running it continued over the field, taunting him. So close, so clear but he just couldn't get it. With a frustrated growl the wolf continued the case, now that he could see it he could concentrate better on it. He was gaining on the deer, its moves becoming more erratic by the second. With a deep grunt the wolf jumped, leaping of the ground and onto its hide.

He sank his fangs into its neck and ripped its throat out. Crimson red blood dripped from its nuzzle and it slowly discoloured the snow. Throwing its head backwards it howled triumphantly. It had caught his prey. Sherlock had the case. Now he only had to put everything in motion.

Sherlock put down his violin with a content smile, the plan would work. It was a little doggy and it depended on Mr Beckham willingness to cooperate, but that shouldn't be a problem. The man had a daughter she could get him to sympathise with them.

"John? John?!" Where was he when you needed him? "John!" "For fucks sake Sherlock! He is at the hospital! Where he works!" Sherlock grunted and picked up his phone. The doctor picked up quickly. "Meet me at Hollands Park." "Sherlock I am working." "I need your help with this. I need your social skills." "For what?" "I am going to get the person responsible for Elizabeth's kidnapping." "She is in Hollands Park?"

"No. But our bait is." "What?" he quickly filled him in on the plan as he got into the cab. "Okay. I am on my way." Before he could tell the cabbie where to go a soft knock on his window caught his attention. Elizabeth was standing on the pavement, pulling on his jacket. "You are not coming." "You need me." "I have John." "I am your best chance to get him to join. He is going to toss his reputation in the sink for this, even if it is only for a little while. He isn't just going to do that without proof."

"Elizabeth." He sighed. "It isn't dangerous, I won't came with you on the dangerous part. Just to this part, I want to help. I need to help. I want to get her just as much as you. I deserve to be a part of this." "I can't let you go. I promised Mrs Hudson." "You promised to keep me out of danger, then keep me out of trouble."

She pulled the door open. "Move over." "Elizabeth." "Move. Over. Sherlock." He glanced over her, and with a deep sigh he moved over and allowed her to sit down next to him. "Fine. But any sign of danger and I am getting you out." "Yes Mr Holmes." Both of them rolled their eyes at the others behaviour.

"So how did you know I was going to manipulate Mr Beckham?" "Because I am not stupid. You think all human emotions are a weakness. Especially empathy. You really like to use that. I suppose that makes you human. What I really would like to know is how you are planning on getting close enough to him."

"You'll see." She sighed but didn't push him, he was already letting her come with him. The next 30 minutes they sat in silence waiting for them to arrive. The cabbie dropped them off just outside the gates of Hollands Park. John was already standing there waiting for them. "Hey Sherlock. Omg why is Elizabeth here? I thought we agreed she'd stay home."

"We need her for this part." "Sherlock!" "If he sees her, what has happened to her then they might just help us. If anything goes wrong I'll send her home." John sighed. "I am here now. I might as well come." "Fine. But the first second something goes wrong." "Yes, yes, back to Bakerstreet. I get it." she turned back to Sherlock. "So how are we getting inside?" "We ring the bell."

"What? Which bell?" Sherlock simply walked away towards the gates and the guard. "Hello." The guard looked up and touched his gun slightly. "Sir, I must ask you to vacate the premises." "I am here to see Mr David Beckham." "Sir. Please leave. You are not allowed inside without an invitation of Mr Beckham himself."

"He will want to see me." "Do you have any idea how many people say that every day. Please leave, I'll call the security." Elizabeth looked questionably over at John who simply shrugged. "My name is Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps you have heard of me." "Listen sir. I don't care if you are the queen of England, you aren't going through these gates! Now leave!"

"I know." "Excuse me." "I know. I know your secret." "Oh please, you really aren't original Mr Holmes." "You smell of perfume, a woman's perfume. It isn't your wife's, you have been married with her for at least 6. No 7 years to your wife, her perfume wouldn't been so expensive. So it is someone new, probably a younger woman.

I bet she is trying to get in here. To meet one of these incredibly handsome men behind the gates. But you know that don't you, you are used to it. Young, attractive woman willing to have sex with you to try and get in." the guards face had gone incredibly pale. "I wonder what Mrs Padma would think about that."

"What do you want?" "Just call him and tell him that Mr Sherlock Holmes needs his help with a case." 'You won't tell my wife?" "Just one phone call." With a small nod he picked up the phone. "Mr Beckham there is someone here to see you." "No. His name is Mr Sherlock Holmes." "Says he needs help with a case." "Yes sir. Are you sure? No. A man and a girl." Sherlock tapped him on his shoulder. "My companions are Dr Watson and Elizabeth."

"He says they are Dr Watson and Elizabeth. Are you sure? They don't have clearance." He glanced at the detective one more time. "Okay. Will do sir." He put down the phone. "Go right in. A car will bring you to Mr Beckham's home."

* * *

 **Chapter 64**

* * *

With a smile they all walked through the gates. Sherlock winked at her as they got into the car. She gave in that she admired him, the way he had pulled it off. It was a simple deduction, one he had done several times before. It stayed something impressive especially if it meant they could get into places like this.

The driver stopped in front of a huge mansion and let them out of the car. Elizabeth felt a sudden rush of nervousness as they walked up to the steps and rang the bell. Though she did not follow, watch, play or even really like football she still knew who David Beckham was. Everyone knew who he was.

She licked her lips nervously when the door started to open, and the footballer appeared in the doorway. "Mr Holmes, please come inside." As they walked over the threshold he shook their hands. "I must say, I didn't not expect to find out that you were at my door." "Yes, well it seems I need your help." "Ah yes, our guard mentioned something about that. Please come to our living room." "Is your wife home?" "Excuse me?" "Your wife. Mrs Beckham. I need to speak to both of you. And with Brooklyn."

This seemed to baffle him slightly. "I'll send for them." "Good. It will be easier if everyone is there when I tell you the plan?" This made the football player stop in his tracks. "What plan?" "Did you not here what I just said, first I need everyone here."

The man glanced over Sherlock before nodding. "If it wasn't you, I would have called the police by now." Sherlock rolled his eyes and went into the living room. John and Elizabeth followed him as they sat down onto the couch. It took Mr Beckham only a couple of minutes to find round up his family and get everyone downstairs. Once they had settled down Sherlock started a new conversation.

"Okay. What I need you to do is very simple. I need all of you to help me with a case, the best way you can do that Mr Beckham is by throwing your career out of the window." "Excuse me." "Let me finish. There is a woman killing men who abuse and cheat on their families. It is impossible for us to find her. She chooses her targets at random but we have a way to find her. The best way to do that is by using a bait. A target that is irresistible, someone adored and seen as a hero. That is you." The man was about to turn down the flattery but a glare of Sherlock shut him up.

"So I need you to create a scandal. We will help you with it, but you are the one who has to actually do everything. Your wife is going to have to pretend that you abused her in a drunken rage, and that it isn't the first time. Then your oldest son will have to come forward and say that the claims are true and that you can no longer stand by while this happened. Afterwards I'll need you to drive of and let her come to you."

All of them looked completely white and shocked. "You expect my husband to drag themselves through the dirt. And then put him in danger." "Yes." "No way. I am not letting you do that!" "Sweetheart." "No! No discussion. Get out of my house." Sherlock sighed and glanced at Elizabeth. "This woman has killed 49 woman and she will not stop." "I don't car I am not letting him in danger!"

But her look was a little different this time, a little less convinced at her husband looked horrified. "Plus you should be talking about this in front of my son! He is only 18." This time John spoke up. "Elizabeth is only 17 years old. She has gone through hell and now because of this woman she went through hell again." The woman sat back a little and Brooklyn looked at her in confusion.

Elizabeth smiled a little and started to untie her shoe. "What is she doing?" "Because of this killer I was kidnapped." She said as she slipped her shoe of. "They wanted Sherlock of the case you see. They knew he could find her. So they used me as leverage against him." her sock came off and she placed her foot on the couch.

The family yelped in surprise at the feet with only 4 toes. "They were very persuasive." She had been wearing gloves, for dramatic effect of course and then pulled one out. She showed them her severed finger. "If they had been any later I would have lost a lot more than just these two. Now they won't stop. They have killed an innocent men and then they did this to me. And they will not, not without you."

They swallowed hard at the revelation. "Please Mr Beckham, Mrs Beckham, and Brooklyn. You are our one chance to find her. Please help us." And then they waited as they kept looking at her hand. "You will be safe David. We won't let anything happen to you. It will be constantly supervised and well planned. Don't worry."

"Can we talk about this for a moment? Alone." "We don't have time for this." "Sherlock." John said very pointedly. "Okay fine." The family walked out and left them three on the couch. "You okay Liz?" "Fine." Sherlock squeezed her knee and leaned backwards in the chair. "They will help us." "How do you know for sure?" "Did you see the look on her face? She is a mother and a wife, she just heard us talking about a woman killing husbands and torturing daughters. She'll help."

And lo and behold, five minutes later the family came back. "How can we help?" Sherlock smiled quickly. "First of all we'll need Mrs Beckham to look like someone hit her in the face. A little bit of make-up is all it will take. Then this afternoon you'll go out of the house and walk somewhere semi-public. Crying and with the bruise. I will take a couple of pictures and put them online."

The group nodded and Elizabeth watched as the couple squeezed each other's hands. "Then by next morning the rumours will have started to circulate and I need you." He said turning to Brooklyn. "To contact a news company and tell them that your dad has in fact been beating your mum, coming home drunk and cheated on multiple occasions. We will give you a script and help you rehears it."

"Okay I can do that." "After that I need you Mr Beckham to leave your home and then drive through a couple of streets. Then I'll tweet a picture of you somewhere and another video of me approaching your car. You'll be drunk. I'll make sure she knows where you are going and then she'll find you."

"What will she try to do?" "She'll try to make you drive of a bridge and die." "But how?" "We don't know yet." the men threw his head back. "You are completely crazy!" "Will you help us?" "Yes. Yes we will. But I want police protection the entire time." "No problem. Okay let's get started. Mrs Beckham if you will." Sherlock picked up a bag and they went off to a bathroom. "I'll tell you the steps you needed for the drunk car drive and get a police detail. Can we go to an office or something?"

Mr Beckham took the doctor upstairs leaving her alone with Brooklyn. "I guess I'll stay here then." she said with a sigh. The boy in front of her gave her a little shrug. "Want a drink?" she nodded and followed him into the kitchen. "So how does it feel to be a football stars son?" the boy grimaced. "It has its perks but it can be pretty shit too sometimes. Too much press, no piracy and all that." "Suppose so yeah."

He handed her a glass of coke and leaned against a counter. She was surprised how calm he seemed to be about all of this. "You don't seem bothered by all of this." "It has to be done. We have to save him. Plus, all I have to do is give a press conference." "Yeah but you'll be condemning your dad to the wolves."

"Yeah but only for a little while. I bet he'll benefit quite nicely from it afterwards. I mean it will make him look like a hero." Elizabeth snorted a little. As she took another drink she saw him glancing at her hand and put it in her back pocked. Realising he made her slightly uncomfortable he looked to the ground. "Sorry. It is just. I don't know, hard to believe I guess." "Hard to believe what?" "That people would do those kind of things."

The teen let out a heartless laugh. "What is so funny?" "This is nothing. I've had worse. A lot worse." A look passed over his face, one she had learned to recognize a long time ago, it was embarrassment because he wanted to ask questions about what had happened. "I rather you ask me then try to guess it yourself." When he looked up startled at him she just smiled at him. "When you spend that much time with Sherlock, you pick up some deducting skills."

He glanced up nervously. "What else happened?" "Did you see the video?" "What video?" "Okay so you haven't. A while back I was kidnapped by a man called Moriarty. He wasn't really nice." He grimaced a little. "I can show you if that is what you want." He blushed hard but didn't object. She smiled and pulled up her shirt. At this point she had done it so many times she should have gotten completely used to it already. But still whenever someone let their eyes roam over her scars it send a shiver over her spine.

"Holy shit!" she carefully turned around and heard him take a deep breath in horror. Then to her surprise his fingers trailed over one of the scars and she leaped back and turned around. "Please don't." he dropped his hands and his cheeks turned bright red. "Shit sorry. I didn't know." "It is okay. You are not the first. I don't really like it when people touch the scars. Brings back memories."

"And he did that to you?" she nodded. "Why?" "Emotional torture for Sherlock and John." "Are they? Are they your parents?" Chuckling at the familiar comment she shook her head. "No they took me in afterwards." "Don't you have any family?"

"Not anymore. They died, car accident." His face fell. "Let's not talk about that. Let's talk about something happier." "Sure. Want a tour of the house?" She nodded and grabbed the bottle of coke as he led her up the stairs.

"Honestly I was so surprised that Mr Holmes even knew who we were. I mean from what I had seen and read he doesn't care at all about the popular media." "He doesn't and he didn't. I am the one who told him about you." "Figures. So do you spend a lot of time solving mysteries?" they got to the top to the stairs and she walked into the huge corridor. "Yeah from time to time." "Tell me about it." "You want me to tell you all our secrets?" she joked. "Yass! Please spill!" "Fine, I'll tell you about the lion mane. Honestly one of my favourite cases because it is _so_ stupid."

As they walked through the corridor he showed her into different room as she told them the story. Eventually they reached his room and she sat down onto his bed. By the time the story was over he bend over laughing. "I know right! A fucking jellyfish!" "Omg. The greatest detective of this area completely stumped by a jelly fish."

The laughter died down and they calmed down a little. "I feel like I've been interviewing all the time. How about you ask me a question for a change." With a smirk she leaned forward but she was cut short when Mrs Beckham's voice came in from down the stairs. "Brooklyn! Come down please!" he shrugged and pulled her out of the bed, and returned back down.

* * *

 **Chapter 65**

* * *

She sucked in a breath when she saw the woman at the bottom of the stairs, she had been completely transformed. Her normally pretty made up face had been ruined. Her eyeliner had run out, her lipstick smudged and her hair had been completely ruffled. But the thing that surprised her the most, a large blue spot covered her left eye. A bruise that looked horribly painful. There was a bright red hand print on her neck, it looked like someone had chocked her.

Her clothes were ruffled and her shirt was a little ripped. "Mum." He whispered. "God it looks so real. Are you sure he didn't just beat you?" the woman laughed. "No. He's surprisingly good at make-up." Sherlock forced a smile when Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at him.

"So I suppose I am going to town now." she took a deep breath and hugged her son. "Wish me good luck." "Hey, hey wait a minute. Where is the police support?" David had come out of the study with John by his side. "Don't worry sir. Agent Lestrade is waiting for your wife just outside of your gates. He is the best the police has to offer, so she'll be completely safe;"

They hugged each other and she left the room. Sherlock grabbed his phone and called someone. "Who are you calling?" "Homeless network, they'll circulate the pictures. Get the rumours out." "I am sorry the homeless network?" This time Sherlock smile was a genuine one as he turned to the 18 year old. "Yeah. They are a group of homeless people that work for me. I pay them and they pay attention to the things that happen in the city. Nothing ever happens that I don't know about."

"But homeless people?" "Have a problem with them?" she knew that Sherlock had spent some time on the streets but he would never open up about it, but he didn't take good against people who looked down on the less fortunate.

"No! Of course not!" the other man's face had gone red. "It is just. How do you know you can trust them?" Sherlock took a step closer to him. "I trust them more then I trust you. Just because life hasn't been kind to them that they are bad people. Now be quiet."

The detective turned away and started to talk to someone on the phone giving out quick and simple instruction.

"Jeez, a touchy subject much." The laugh was an awkward one as he tried to make light of the situation. "Yeah. He doesn't like it when people are ignorant on subjects like that. Must say I agree fully with him." this managed to shut him up and he walked away. "My dad didn't mean to offend." Brooklyn said in a way of apologise. "I know. But he did. Sherlock doesn't get attached easily but when he does it is with limitation."

They went to the living room and Sherlock quickly joined them again. "They'll have the pictures up in minutes under the hashtag BeckhamBruise. "That is one shitty hastag." Sherlock ignored his remark and turned to the boy sitting next to her. "Let's start talking about what you are going to say. Could you get a computer?" he jumped up and left them quickly. "Be nice to him Sherlock. He is okay." "Ugh don't tell me you are getting a crush. I honestly don't feel like dealing with these kind of things."

She almost spit out her drink. "Oh god no! I didn't even know you knew what that was!" "You have made me watch too many films where boy meets girl and love ensues." "Okay smartass. Use your deduction skills then! Do they say I have a crush?" "No but a crush is harder to detect then love. Often because it is a figment of your imagination." "It is not, but I don't have a crush on the kid. Just don't put too much stress on him. The next two days are going to be stressful enough as it is."

"She is right you know." "Et tu John?" "Didn't know you knew Julius Caesar." "Didn't till she forced it down my throat." "You need to know a bit about history Sherlock! Plus it means you get to make references now, which is a good bonus." "Okay. Anyway back to the matter at hand. You can be a bit extreme sometimes Sherlock. So listen to Elizabeth when she tells you to be nice. She has social skills, you don't."

"No I don't." "In comparison to Sherlock you do." Before they could continue their conversation Brooklyn was back. "Let's leave them for a little while." She followed the man through the door before throwing a warning glance at Sherlock. John led her to the kitchen where he leaned back against the kitchen sink. "Did you know he could do that? The make-up I mean." "No I had no clue." She answered with a little grin. "He is amazing though. I'll ask him to do mine one day." The two of them shared a chuckle.

"Once Mrs Beckham is back home, we are taking you back to Bakerstreet." She pouted at that. "Come on John. Just let me help! I am in no danger." "Yes you are. I only allowed you to come this far because we could use your help. Tomorrow you are going back to school." She rolled her eyes but didn't start a fight. Though it often didn't look like it from the outside, John was the harder of the two.

When he decided on something, nothing was going to persuade him otherwise. Sherlock on the other hand loved a good debate and was easily drawn into a long conversation. He didn't necessarily cave but he would reward her if she gave good arguments. He wasn't nearly as strict as the former soldier. So she took out her phone and started to browse the internet, looking for the pictures. The least she could do was send them to her friends, spread it a little herself.

And lo and behold, the first couple of pics had already been leaked. It wouldn't be long before it would all explode. She quickly send a message to her friends, faking surprise and horror. None of them questioned her sudden knowledge of a footballer's wife and 5 minutes later the pictures were trending. The pictures didn't look staged at all and quite a few of them were blurry and out of focused.

But there were two clear photos of the woman with the bruises. Evidence that something had happened and the conspiracies about what had happened quickly followed. Most of them were about the couple and possible abuse. Part one of the plan was in action, by the morning the news would be all over. About half an hour later a knock on the door announced the return of the woman.

Elizabeth was happily surprised to see that Lestrade was with her and quickly gave the man a hug. Her smile however turned into a frown when the three men announced she'd be going home with him while Sherlock and John stayed at the home of the footballer. She wanted to protest but it was three against one and she didn't want to put up a scene before the family.

So she reluctantly bid them goodbye and got in the car with Lestrade. The drive was calm and familiar and the teen listened to him talk about what had happened that night, the cases he was currently working, and his frustrating co-workers who were pissed at him for giving the case over to the consulting detective.

He didn't need to tell her that she was talking about Donovan and Anderson for her to figure out he meant them. She might feel a little sorry for the two agents if they weren't horrible assholes. She knew Sherlock could be a lot to handle and an arrogant dick but their behaviour was frustrating. Especially now that he was trying his best to change his behaviour and they didn't even give him a second chance.

Mrs Hudson was both very happy and pissed off when they got home. She swore she'd give the two men an earful when they got home, they had promised her that they wouldn't get her involved anymore. However she was quite happy to see her home safe with the English police agent. She rarely got to talk to him and when she found out he was spending the night she was ecstatic.

It was midnight so she wouldn't get to talk to him a lot now, but she promised him she'd tell him all kinds of stories. Elizabeth had to muffle a giggle at Greg's forced smile, it was not the first time the landlord had tried to corner him and it certainly wouldn't be the last. After quite a bit of insisting she managed to convince him to take Johns bed and not the couch. It was a ridicules notion, there were 2 free beds, and he wasn't sleeping on the crappy couch.

The next morning she woke up to the smell of coffee and the exited chatter of Mrs Hudson through her alarm clock. Tossing on a bathrobe she headed into the kitchen. Lestrade was seated opposite of the older woman who was chatting happily away. He had horrible bed head and from the look of it he hadn't been awake for that long before Mrs Hudson had gotten to him.

"Morning." she mumbled as she grabbed a piece of toast. "Ah Elizabeth! When do you need to leave for school? I'll drive you." With a sly little smile she answered. "Don't be silly Greg, I can take the bus." He shoot her a desperate look. "John asked me to take care of you. Don't want him to be angry at me." she pretended to think it over for a while before nodding. The detective let out an audible sigh at the escape from the endless stories. "I'll be ready in 20." She continued through a mouthful.

"Manners Elizabeth manners." She smiled kindly at the landlady before heading to the bathroom and getting dressed. Before leaving for school she checked her phone. The news had spread like wild fire and apparently the news that Brooklyn was going to tell the news what had happened had gotten out. The temptation to ask for an update was huge but she knew better, she wouldn't get a responds from Sherlock and John would tell her to get her ass to school.

With a slightly frustrated sigh she slung her bag over her shoulder and got into the waiting car before leaving to school. The day passed slowly as she talked with her friends and listened to her teachers drown on about all kinds of important subjects.

The blandness was stopped however when Brooklyn had his 'press conference' at the end of the day. Eagerly she opened the video and watched as the confidant boy from the day before stood in front of the cameras. He looked completely different now, small, scared and angry. The people were asking him question all yelling at the same time until he coughed softly.

"I wanted to talk to you today." He started before looking down at the ground and shivering slightly. "We have been living a lie but enough is enough. As most of you know my mum was hurt last night. Someone hurt her. My dad hurt her." his voice broke when he said 'dad'. The press exploded, lights flashed and the sounds mingled.

She watched Brooklyn flinch before steadying herself and looking right into one of the cameras. His eyes had gone from scared to blind fury. "For years now my father has come home drunk and yelled at us. He has abused us for days on end, threating to hurt us. Actually hurting us. At first it was just my mum but when I became older he hurt me too. He threatened to hurt my sister yesterday. Luckily he was to drunk and passed out before he actually did something.

But at that point he had already hurt my mum. Again. It was too much for her and she felt the need to get out of the house. Away from him. However someone had seen her and taken pictures. My mum still loves my dad and wanted to bury the story! He promised that he would never do it again!"

Brooklyn's voice rose with every word. "But he had promised that a hundred times! A hundred! And he broke it ever time. Enough is enough. I will not let him hurt us anymore! I can't." he buried his head in a hand. It was a strategic move that made his shirt slip down slightly revealing a blue hand shaped bruise on his wrist. Pretending to be ashamed he pulled the shirt back up.

"For years we have been hiding form the truth. Using make-up to make the bruises disappear and believe his promise. We smiled in front of the camera, like a good happy family. Ignoring the nights he didn't come home, pretending to notice we didn't smell the perfume on him or see the hickies on his neck. We wanted to believe it would change. But it never will." He steadied himself again and straightened up.

"My dad is an abusive alcoholic who has cheated on my mum countless times and hurt us both mentally and physically on numerous occasions and I won't stand by it anymore. We will be pressing charges. Thank you." He nodded once before turning around and walking away from the shouting reporters. It had gone perfectly.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading my friends! Let me know what you throught about it!


	8. Chapter 8 - Time to act

**Chapter 66**

* * *

After that speech the internet exploded. Everyone wanted to David Beckham to come out and make a statement. The news spread like wildfire and everyone was outraged. Yet another rich asshole who abused his family. Meanwhile Elizabeth drove back home with Lestrade desperate for some more news. She had to know what was going on, plus she wanted to congratulate Brooklyn for his masterful speech. That kid could act.

But no Sherlock and John kept radio silence, no news for her. Though the fact that the officer beside her was also kept out of the loop gave her some conciliation. "I need to swing by the office before I can drop you off. Okay?" "Yeah, sure." Maybe she'd get some excitement from there.

Grabbing her backpack from the trunk she followed him inside. She took a seat in the lounge and grabbed her book. There were a couple of officers already in the room, Lestrade shook their hands before grabbing a cup of coffee and disappearing. She knew some of them, or at least she knew of them. Sometimes from Sherlock's stories or form Lestrade.

While pretending to read her book she listened to their conversation, it was hushed so they probably didn't want to her too hear. All the more reason to listen in. "Do you recognize her?" the agent was a tall woman, her blond hair was braided and swung over his shoulder. "I think so. She's Holmes' kid right?" the red headed man replied, he had a slight lisp and she remembered Sherlock talking about him.

The man frustrated him, not because of the lisps but for his lack of attention to details. "No way that man has a kid." The way the _that_ was pronounced made it sound like a horrible insult, she flinched. "She is always hanging around him and that doctor of his. Pretty sure they live in the same flat and everything." "I am not buying it." the woman's voices was laced with disbelieve. "Have you met him? He thinks he is some kind of big shot but he is just such an asshole. He's got Lestrade completely wrapped around his finger though. Let's him run through like the city like some vigilant."

The sudden need to tell them to shut up was growing. They continued talking. "You know I've heard Donovan saying that she thinks he might have committed some of those crimes he solved." The redhead continued. "I mean how else do you think he solved them?"

"The man is a madman. I would honestly not be surprised if it were true." Elizabeth bit down a growl and continued to listen. "So you really think she is his daughter? I mean who'd have a kid with him?" there was a couple of seconds of silence and she felt their glances over her. She flipped a page of the book and continued to read. "Oh my god." A hushed whisper came from the man. "I know who she is."

"Who?" "Remember a while? There was this girl who was kidnapped together with Holmes and Dr Watson? I think that is her." a second of silence. "They… They kept her?" "I guess so." she felt slightly uncomfortable now that they actually knew who she was. Closing the book she got up and left the room, not wanting to listen to them badmouth her friends anymore.

She walked through the hallway, not really going anywhere. It frustrated her that people didn't feel like giving him a second chance. That was of course the exact moment that she ran into Anderson. Literally, ran into him, head against chest. "Fuck." She hissed, rubbing her head while the man did copied the gesture, but against his ribs. "You don't say."

When they made eye contact both of them cursed mentally, there was no love lost between them. "I suppose Holmes is running around here as well? Should I expect an attack from him as well?" she shot him a fake smile. "I am here with your boss actually. Not that it is any of your business." He rolled his eyes at the statement. "I can't believe he is letting kids run around here too. It was bad enough when it was just that asshole, now he brought his fucking play toy and his little protégée." "Fuck you too Anderson."

She tried to walk passed him but he took a step to the side, blocking her path. Frustration bubbled up into her chest, he was looking for a fight. "What do you want?" she snarled at him. "Calm down Lizzy." He used one of her many pet names as an insult. "Don't want to get into trouble do you." "I won't be the one getting into trouble."

"Do you really think Lestrade will come?" "Who said anything about Lestrade?" he let out a barking laughter. "Oh that freak really rubbed off on you didn't he?" "Don't call him that." "Or what? You really became an arrogant bitch." "What does that make you? You are the one who is corning a teen in a corridor. Calling her names. Isn't that a little juvenile?"

He took a step closer to her, he was quite tall. Not taller than Sherlock but he still toward above her. "Don't try taking the high ground now. I don't understand why you would stay with him and his little pet? You know he doesn't care about you right. I mean, he tossed you away to Greg because he didn't have any use for you right now."

"That is not true." "It is though. You are nothing but some more entertainment, just like John. And you'd do anything for him wouldn't you. I bet you come running like a dog every time he calls." She knew she shouldn't let it get to her, but it did and clearly it was evident on her face because the man was smirking now.

"Oh I struck a nerve there didn't I? Truth always hurts doesn't it?" "You are just jealous of him." "As if I could ever be jealous of a freak like that." He practically spat that word. "I told you not to call him that. He is twice the man you will ever be and it kills you. It kills you that you'll never have that raw talent that he has. And unlike Greg who has the common sense that a mind like that could help save lives. You just want to push him away, because you feel threatened by him. You'd rather have people die than ask him for help. You are nothing compared to him and you know it."

Every word she spit out made his face contort in anger, she grinned at him this time when she said. "The truth hurts doesn't it?" he snarled at her but she stopped him from saying anything else. "I am done here. I am going." She pushed past him but he grabbed her wrist.

For a second her heart stopped and the world froze around her. All she could feel was the cold touch of metal pushing down on her skin, the biting sting of the cuffs as she tugged at them, the painful bruises of being chained up that long. She felt the stinging touch of a blade as it pulled over her wrist, drawing blood. She felt his touch as he had grabbed her wrist and whispered into her ear.

It wasn't exactly the touch that set of the sudden flashbacks, it was rather the way he had grabbed her. The anger and aggression behind the action. She didn't even try to pull her wrist out of his grip as he pulled her back. "I am not done here." He growled. The idiot hadn't even noticed the change in her. She heard her heart in her ears and the sound of his voice. Velvet soft at first but quickly become louder and louder, the sound of it echoed through her head.

Her vision swam and her breathing was becoming more and more laboured. She was vaguely aware that he was still talking to her, anger becoming clearer with every word he spat at her. Suddenly his hand was on her shoulder and he shook her roughly. "Hey! I am still talking to you!" he yelled at her.

It send her over the edge. Her knees collapsed and the panic wrapped itself complete around her and swallowed her. She was back in the cage with blood dripping down her back. She was back on the bed the soft sheets in stark contrast with the pain he caused her. She was back cuffed to the table as a knife forced itself through her skin and bones. She must have cried out because suddenly the sound of footsteps echoed in the back of her mind.

She pulled her knees against her chest, closing her eyes and hid her face into her knees. She was whispering something, or at least she thought she was. She couldn't be sure. Someone touched her arm softly and she recoiled backwards. Her head hit the wall behind her as she leaped backwards from the touch. She was still trembling but her eyes found the familiar brown ones of Lestrade.

They were filled with worry as the grey haired man got onto his knees in front of her. "Elizabeth?" she clutched the small key around her neck and used the sharp pain and the eyes in front of her as an anchor. "Elizabeth. You are okay. You are safe. Can you hear me?" very slowly she nodded her head. "Okay. I need you to breath. Can you do that? Take a deep breath for me dear." Another nod and she took a shaking breath. "There we go."

He gave her an encouraging smile but the worry was still there. After a couple more breaths she let go of her necklace. "Greg?" "Yes, yes. You are okay. You are in the police distinct." She swallowed hard and licked her lips before glancing around. They weren't alone. A group of officers had gathered around the scene, she spotted Anderson in the back. He looked absolutely horrified at her. Putting her hands on the ground she pushed herself back onto her feet. "I am okay." she whispered softly, embarrassed at the sudden outburst.

"Okay. Come, we'll go somewhere a little more private." She allowed him to put an arm around her shoulder and lead her away. He threw a couple of angry glances around and pinned Anderson down with a stare. "I didn't know. I didn't meant to. I am." the man started to stutter. "We will talk about this later." "Sir." "Later!" he tossed the door of his office closed.

Elizabeth sank down in the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. "Liz, what happened?" Her breathing was still a little irregular and her cheeks were a bit flushed but she was back in reality. "Nothing. I am okay." She forced a grin onto her face but the officer didn't believe her for a second. "You were back there weren't you?" staring at her lap she nodded. "What triggered it?" "I rather not."

He placed a hand carefully on her shoulder, the touch was feather light but reassuring. "I know. But John said that talking about it would help prevent it from happening again." Elizabeth groaned slightly at the logic behind the statement. "If you want to wait till you can talk with John or Sherlock I understand. But I am here for you. You know that right?"

"I know. I know." She sat up slightly more straight. "Could I get a glass of water first?" he squeezed her shoulder before hurrying off. When he was gone she allowed herself to bury her head in her hands again and let out a groan of frustrations. There had been at least 10 other officers in that hall, 10 people who saw her in her most pitiful and vulnerable state. The rumours would spread quickly, they always did. Some would say she was a fragile little thing, others would say she had over reacted, a couple of them would probably find a way to blame it all on Sherlock.

"Fuck." And all of this because Anderson had grabbed her wrist! It shouldn't have had such a hard reaction to something like that. She hadn't had one this bad in public since shortly after her parents' death. She knew the kidnapping had probably done little to help her state, but she thought she had left this behind.

Her train of thought was broken when Lestrade pushed the door open and handed her a bottle of water. Thanking him she downed a part of the bottle. He settled down on the edge of the desk and waited for her start. "It wasn't anything big or such. I was walking through the hallway when I bumped into Anderson. We had a discussion."

Lestrade looked slightly disappointed at that. "It got a little heated and we were both quite rude. Eventually I decided to leave but I had pissed him of pretty hard. So he grabbed my wrist and I had an attack." "He should have known better." "No. I mean he shouldn't have grabbed me, but I over reacted."

"Listen Elizabeth. You went through hell anyone would have flashbacks. It is PTSD, quite a few officers in the precinct have had experiences like this." "I just thought it was over by now. I didn't think I would have a reaction like this in public anymore." Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "It might never really stop Elizabeth. It will quiet down but it is possible that ten years from now something might trigger another attack. It is nothing to be ashamed about."

"Please don't tell John. Or Sherlock." "You don't have to hide it. They will understand." "I know. I just don't want them to worry. They are already trying to keep me away from the cases. I don't want them to think it is going worse."

Lestrade smiled a little at her. "Okay. Fine. This time I'll stay quiet." "Thanks Greg."

* * *

 **Chapter 67**

* * *

She decided to study and doing her homework like a good girl when she came home. However she was interrupted halfway through her biology assignment by a text alert. To her surprise it was John with an update on the case.

 _Cases are going pretty good. Brooklyn did an amazing job on the interview. Reports are swarming the gates so it won't be long before we send Beckham outside with the car. The police know not to interfere with him. We will let you know when we have got her. Stay with Greg._

Okay so not that much information. She sat back down with a sigh, there was no way she was continuing her homework right now. Instead she got up and went to the living room, Greg was perched in one of the sofas, his laptop on his knees. She joined him and switched on the news.

The main story was that of Beckham. "Does it bother you?" the officer looked confused. "Does it bother you that Sherlock doesn't involve you?" "It used to. I mean when I just started out and he would just cast me aside, it pissed me off. But now, now that I understand the way he works and I have worked with him. I know not to take offence."

She turned back to the TV, to the people yelling at the gates, trying to get him out of the house. "Though I have to admit." He continued. "When he brought John into all of it, it kind of took me of guard. I had always assumed that he wasn't capable of working with someone else, and that was why he didn't work with me. But then he had John by his side, and I realised he just didn't see me that way. It did kind of hurt then."

Elizabeth threw him a sympathetic smile. "You know he thinks very highly of you." "Really?" the disbelieve was written all over his face. "Yes. He often talks about you when he mentions his cases. The way he talks about you shows how he thinks of you. Normally there is a certain amount of distain in his voice but with you it is just frustration."

This just made him snicker slightly. "Wow that sounds a lot better." "It really is very special for you." The detective smiled a little at her. "I'll get us a cup of tea." "Elizabeth, thank you." "Don't let it get to your head." With a grin she ruffled his hair the way that the men used to do to her and leaped out of the way before Lestrade could grab her. To be honest she was surprised how very comfortable she felt around the grey-haired detective. How quick she had gotten comfortable with all of the people in her life now.

Handing him a cup of earl grey she dropped herself down in the sofa next to him. Curling into his side and he tossed his arm over her shoulder. "They grow up so fast." She joked making him laugh a little, almost spilling her tea onto her pants. "Careful! It is hot!" he jostled her again this time the tea did spill making her hiss. "Don't!" Again he pushed against her. "Stop it you idiot!" she cried again before he shoved him in his ribs.

The tea came pouring down but to her frustration it didn't touch hit him but it ran over her head. Jumping up she swore loudly at the warm liquid ran down her back. "Greg!" "Don't look at me! You did this yourself!" he was laughing cheerfully which only pissed her of more. As revenge she threw her blue hair forward, the tea coming from her locks into his face.

Before the man could take his revenge she had darted to her room and locked the door. "Elizabeth!" he was at her door. "Come out and take your punishment as a woman!" "Come and get me!" he was still laughing when the annoyed voice of Mrs Hudson came from downstairs. Amusement rose at the sound of Mrs Hudson berating Lestrade for chasing her through the room and spilling tea everywhere.

She waited another couple of minutes before she walked back out of her room. Lestrade sat pouting in his chair and glared at her. "I can't believe you got me berated like a school kid." She grinned at him. "Don't bully me like that again and you won't get into trouble." His retoured was interrupted by the ding of her phone. "It is Sherlock."

He sat up in attention. "They got her." she breathed. "They have her and are on their way to the precinct." Greg was already out of his chair and putting on his coat. "Let's get going." She followed him down the stair, she gave Mrs Hudson a quick kiss on the cheek before they got into the car and drove off. She could barely contain her giddiness at the mere thought of finally getting in the details of the case.

She absolutely hated the thought of being left out of the circle, though the idea that she'd have to face the agents again terrified her slightly. She had no desire to be made fun off or being pitied. Sensing her discomfort Greg squeezed her shoulder. "They'll understand." Nodding a little she followed him inside.

Luckily seeing as it was rather late not a lot of officers were still in the precinct. She fought the sudden urge to hug John and Sherlock when they came into view, but it would have to wait till they got home. Both of the men looked exhausted but they smiled when she came into view. Next to the men stood Mr Beckham, his wife and his son. All five of them were just inside of the interrogation room.

"She is all yours detective." "Thanks boys." She didn't miss Sherlock's cough at the remark and she knew that Greg hadn't either. Once Lestrade had disappeared Elizabeth turned to Sherlock. "Tell me what happened." "First a cup of tea. Then we will talk." Sherlock strode of, John followed him along with Mrs and Mr Beckham, leaving the two teens alone. She turned to Brooklyn and realised that the boy looked worn out as well, the stress of having his father in the front lines must have been hard on him.

"You did well." He gave her a quick smile. "I mean it. If I hadn't thought known the plan I would have believed you." "Thanks." "You okay?" he merely sighed. "It is hard you know. To hear such horrible things about your father. Your family. They are hyenas you know, the second they smell blood they are on it. Somehow I highly doubt that everyone will believe that he is really guilty. Your friend did an amazing job in getting them believe my dad's an abusive drunk."

A dry chuckled came out of her throat. "I know what you feel like. It can be rather horrible." A flash of horror ran through his face confirming that he had researched her. "Well I am going to go find Sherlock and John. Get the details." Brooklyn followed her. "What I haven't heard the details either." Shrugging they continued down the hallway when she spotted Anderson, he'd just gotten out of the room and was only a couple of steps away from her.

The man froze and avoided eye contact with her. "Look Elizabeth what happened." "I don't want your pity Anderson." Pushing past him she continued to her friends, ignoring the questionable look from the boy behind her. Sherlock and John had made themselves comfortable in Greg's office. "Ah Liz. Yes I guess we should tell you what happened."

"That would be nice yeah." Settling down in one of the chairs she motioned Brooklyn to do the same. "Go on then." a sparkle flashed in the detectives eyes, he just loved to talk about his cases. "So I suppose you saw Brooklyn's speech." A quick nod. "Well after that everything went pretty much as planned. Within minutes the news had spread all over the world, the scandal was a big one, especially because it was his son that had made the announcement. It got a bit more attention than I thought it would though."

His brow creased, a little confused. "Told you Sherlock. People are obsessed with football." He frowned at John's interruption. "Anyway. We waited a couple of hours before we send Mr Beckham out of the house. We made sure to make a scene at the gates.

The guard had to be involved, and he did an amazing job yelling at the man that he shouldn't be driving on his own in the state and trying to stop him. David drove through the city and quite a few people snapped a picture of him so people knew that he was out and about. We made sure that it looked like he looked drunker and drunker by the hour."

She remembered the videos of the man's car swerving on the road. "The police knew not to interfere and after 2 hours of driving we had an 'interview'." She chuckled at the way he wiggled his eyebrows slightly at the word. "I had one of the homeless boys go up to him while he was at a red light to talk with him. Did you see it?"

"Nope. Not yet." John pulled up his phone and started the video, she was surprised at the acting of the footballer. The words came out slurred and he was clearly pissed off, when a fan came up to asking him about the accusations he swore at him and told him to fuck off. His anger grew with every word as he called his wife out as a slut and his son as a traitor. The words were quite harsh making the figure next to her flinch a little.

He continued on a rant about throwing him out of his house, lying, making his life hell. No wonder he need a drink once in a while. His family needed to be shown some discipline from time to time, what was wrong with that? The light turned to green and with a finale swear the car sped off, almost slamming into the person filming the encounter.

"What happened then?" she inquired. It was John who continued the story, clearly to annoyance of the detective who loved to hear himself speak. "He had a small earphone in, so we could instruct him and a mic in his sleeve so we could hear what he said. He drove down the small ally he had turned into for a while and made sure to stay secluded roads so that there wouldn't be too much attention on him. When nothing happened yet we figured our killer must not know where he was, so we threw out on more bait. We had him tweet something with the location added, this was a risk because fans could find him, but it was necessary. A half hour after the tweet he was driving in the same vicinity when he told us there was a hitchhike by the side of the road." Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair, eager to hear what happened next.

"He described her as a young woman in a pair of ripped jeans and a low cut top. Thinking it might have been the murdered we told him to pull over. No sane person would get into a car with a drunkard, unless they needed him drunk.

They talked for a little while but eventually she got into the passenger seat and started to give him directions to her home. Sherlock had been following him from a distance through a tracker and he made sure to be close enough. Concrete proof that she was the killer would have been amazing so we let it go on for a while." "You were driving?"

She knew that he could drive but he rarely did, the detective much rather take a taxi so he could use all his mental facilities to think. "Bike." He mumbled. Now there was a surprise. Sherlock Holmes on a motor bike, that isn't something you see every day. The idea of him clad in leather was not unpleasant.

"Anyway," John pulled her back into the narrative. "She was quite silent in the beginning but slowly started to ask questions about his private life. Like why he was drunk. So we instructed him to go on a rant about how horrible his life was even though he was a rich hero. She started to seduce him slightly and we urged him to play into it a little. When they were crossing a bridge she told him to stop. The woman promised him a good time and got out of the car before opening the driver side door with a needle in her hand.

I believe if Sherlock hadn't been there to grab hold of her wrist she might have plunged it into his neck." The man's son next to her had turned white at the statement. "We had some tests done but it was a heavy tranquil which would have rendered him unconscious. We believe she would have than driven the car of the bridge and leave him to drown at the bottom of the river, letting the water wipe away every last trace of her."

She knew they had given her the quick and undetailed version, most likely because they didn't want her to get involved too much. If they made it sound to epic she'd get to interested and demand to be part of their next case, and seeing as they didn't want that they kept the story short and to the point. It pissed her of royally.

"But I suspect our suspicions will be confirmed soon." Sherlock nodded at the door as Greg came in, beaming. "She gave us a full confession when I told her about Elizabeth. She'd like to talk to you by the way."

* * *

 **Chapter 68**

* * *

"Absolutely not." "John." "No Elizabeth. I won't let you anywhere near her." "I can take care of myself John. I mean she is cuffed to table, what is she going to do?" "I don't care. I won't let you near this case." "This is ridicules John!" "I won't have it." "I am already close to this case!" she yelled shoving her hand into his face. "If I want to talk to the person who is responsible for this would you really take that away from me?"

This managed to silence John. "She is right." Sherlock placed a hand softly on his shoulder. "She deserves this much. We will just be in the other room. We won't let anything happen to her." "How often have we said that Sherlock? How often has that promise turned out to be useless?" this made both Sherlock and Greg shrink slightly. "Not fair John." The officer returned. "I know. It is not fair. I don't want it to happen again." Elizabeth had heard enough and got out of her chair. "I am speaking with her. You can come and watch or reflect on things we can't change." Before anyone could respond she was out the door and into the interrogation room.

It shouldn't have surprised her but the woman sitting in the small chair resembled the old woman so much. She had the same baby blue eyes and round lips, but her hair was still a bright brown, flowing down her shoulders in slight curls. She was beautiful. She had long elegant legs and curves at her hips, though they were muscle and not fate. Her stomach was flat but her breast were full and the low cut white top showed them of beautifully.

Her skin was slightly tinted form being in the sun and her make-up was flawless. Her bright eyes however were filled with regret as they fell onto hers. Elizabeth didn't sit down, they resembled the chairs of her last torture chamber just a little too much. "You wanted to speak with me."

The young woman still refused to make eye contact with her but nodded. "I wanted to apologise." "What?" "I am so sorry Elizabeth. I had no clue what my mother did to protect me! If I had known I would have stopped her! She did the exact thing I tried to stop people from doing." The sudden rant of apology caught her of guard and she merely blinked a couple of times.

"All I wanted to do was rid the world of some evil. Men that hurt innocent people for no reason. Then I killed Adam Bizon and I felt so horrible. You have to believe me! That man didn't deserve to die and I wish I could turn time back and save him."

"Then why?" "It was a mistake, such a foolish mistake." She hung her head in shame. "I was in a bar trying to find my next victim. Adam came in, but he was here with friends and he wasn't drinking. He stayed sober. However as I talked with one of his friends he started to talk about his past, he made it seem like he was talking about the present and I believed him. So I got him drunk. I played the lonely woman and begged him to have a drink with me. I thought he gave in because he wanted me, but it was pity.

He got drunk easily, that is why ex-alcoholic never drink. It is too easy to fall back into it. I asked him to drive me home and made my advances. He was so far gone he didn't think straight. I made him drive of the bridge and didn't look back."

She finally looked at the teen and her eyes were filled with horror. "I didn't mean for it to happen. Please believe me." She looked so desperate that she almost comforted him, almost. "You feel no guilt in killing those other men." "Do you feel sorry for their death?" a sudden hardness had glossed over her eyes. "I taught so." the teen nodded, she had heard enough and started for the door.

"Wait." Her hand was on the handle but she halted. "Can I see it?" "What?" "Can I see what my mother has done to you?" a little cautious she stepped back to the table and put her hand on display. "It is the same on my foot." The killer made to touch the wound but she pulled back quickly. "I really never meant for this to happen." "Doesn't mean it didn't." with that she left the room.

After clearing up a couple more things with the police force the two men were ready to go home but before they could leave Mr Beckham stopped him. "I would really appreciate it if you cleared my name Mr Holmes." Sherlock patted his arm. "Don't worry. The police are drawing up a statement, they should be ready for the press conference in a couple of minutes. He hesitated a little but let them pass. On the drive home John fell asleep against the detective, he had clearly gotten no sleep last night.

The sight was adorable, especially because it seemed to confuse the other man slightly. "Just don't move Sherlock. Let him sleep." With a huff he complied and let the doctor sleep against his shoulder. She noticed how he would tense up with every turn to make sure he didn't move and startle the sleeping man. It was fantastic to watch.

The doctor woke up with a start when the cab came to a violent movement. They walked into the flat and Elizabeth collapsed onto the bed, the day had been a long and emotional one. For everyone involved really, she was ready for a new day. One with a little less drama.

Turns out a little less drama means a shit ton more drama in the Bakerstreet household. A bored Sherlock was a dangerous Sherlock. It worried both her and John though they tried to hide it a little. She noticed how John would look a little too long at the other man's arms, how he would check in all the little nocks and cronies to find it. She wasn't an idiot and she knew what he was looking for.

Sherlock wasn't blind either, he could probably deduce what was going on but neither of them commented on it. It terrified her though. Almost everyone told her about his habits, not often but from time to time. They told her about the small scars on his arms, they told her about the state they had found him in. Drooling on the carpet, twitching, hallucinating, and mumbling useless phrases.

Terror ran through her body at the thought of coming home and find Sherlock unconscious on the ground. So far nothing yet, according to John he had been a lot more careful since she joined them, not wanting to upset her. That didn't mean that his behaviour was always peachy, he had almost been shot her in the head.

Another time she had almost drunk a poison, which looked like water, smelled like water and acted like water and had been in a glass. A normal fucking glass, no markings, no warning nothing. If John hadn't slapped it out of her hand she would have been dead. His reckless behaviour was endangering everyone and they didn't know what to do at this point.

Luckily something came their way that saved them from Sherlock going off the deep end. There had been a couple of clients but omg they were all horrible. A bunny?! A glowing bunny?! She had giggled but Sherlock had gone mad. And then came the man who had brought a portable TV and a documentary she had been pretty sure that he had almost killed their client.

She had managed to lure him into the kitchen with a promise of tea in the hopes of calming him down a little but that didn't seem necessary. The man had said the word Hound and everything had changed, suddenly he was so interested in the case it was impossible to get him to speak about anything else.

She listened in from the kitchen and was itching to go, the constants of her life in Bakerstreet wasn't nearly as constant as it had been in Belgium but routine was something that settled quickly. Elizabeth detested routine and would do anything to break out of it. So she was ready to explore the mystery behind the hound. The petite man hastily left the living room, clearly slightly weirded out by Sherlock but ecstatic that he would help him.

"So." she started as a grin grew onto her face. "When do we leave?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you liked it, if so please leave a comment! If not, please let me know why not. It means the world to me!


	9. Chapter 9 - Time for family bonding

**Chapter 69**

* * *

"You aren't going anywhere, young lady." John said pointedly as he started to boil water for a cup of tea. "What!" indignation was clear in her voice. "Why not?" "Didn't we make it clear? You are _not_ going anywhere near the case. Or any case if I have any say in the matter. Which I have." The smell of Earl Grey filled the kitchen as the tension rose. "I can take care of myself." "No you cannot."

Those three words probably hurt more than any physical blow could have, she flinched at the sound of them. John stared at her, his normal kind eyes had gone hard and unforgiven, her heart clenched slightly. No less determinate she turned to Sherlock, trying to keep her emotions in check she spoke. "Come on Sherlock. I won't get hurt! I mean we are going up against a dog, not a person. Please!"

"We aren't doing anything. John and I will go to the Baskerville, you will stay here, in Bakerstreet." "Sherlock!" "No Elizabeth! This is final!" she took a step backwards, never before had he raised his voice at her. Never had she actually fought with the two men in front of her. Anger rolled of her in waves and her eyes were starting to get teary. She hated it when her eyes got actual tears in them.

She was angry god damn it, not sad! She didn't want to be emotional, she wanted to be in control but that never happened. She also knew that if she tried to speak now that her voice would be laced with emotion and frustration. Instead she turned around and walked away, making a great show of slamming the door making the glass rattle in the cupboards.

Elizabeth didn't realise that while she stomped down the stairs in her anger and frustration John had sunk into a chair with a deep sigh. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his palms he thought about the hurt in those hazelnut brown eyes. He never imagined saying no to Elizabeth would be so difficult. It wasn't like it was the first time he had said no to her.

He had said no when she asked for a pet, when she asked if she could go to Italy with school or have a summer job in Folkestone. Of course there had always been some kind of argument but Elizabeth always saw reason, but this time. This time it had been different.

Not only had she persisted, he had seen the determination in her eyes, she was not going to accept no when it came to this. And when she claimed she could take care of herself his heart had immediately realised what he had to say. The words had a horrible effect on her, like a knife cutting in her skin. Elizabeth proceeded to turn to Sherlock for help only to find another wall there. He wondered if Sherlock had also been effected by their sudden hardness towards Elizabeth.

The man had dropped into an armchair of the Livingroom, he had both sunken into the leather of the chair and his own thoughts. He wasn't effected apparently. Unknown to John Sherlock wasn't thinking about the case, he was thinking about Elizabeth's broken stare. Before John he never really cared about other people, than he had learned to care about his closest friends and when he met Elizabeth he had learned to see when he hurt people.

Sadly this meant he could also purposely hurt people so much easier, including those he cared about. He had seen the way Elizabeth had flinched at Johns cruel words and the tears form in her eyes when he turned his back on her too. God being parent was pretty hard. A tiny chuckle ran through her as he realised he had just called himself a parent.

Elizabeth was curled up on her bed, why wouldn't Sherlock and John trust her. They had trusted her before, but now, now that someone had kidnapped her again they had been acting so differently around her. It wasn't like John hadn't been kidnapped before, I mean Moriarty had managed to grab him twice. Just like her. Though to be honest the idea of being kidnapped again, hurt again did not appeal to her at all. It send shivers down her spine, but still she did not want to stand on the side lines.

God damn it all. Part of her realised that John hadn't mean to hurt her, that he had said what he needed to say to get her to back off. However the rest of her still burned at those cruel words, and the way Sherlock had turned his back on her hadn't helped a lot.

The rest of the day was extremely tense and all of them made sure to stay out of each other's way. By the time Sherlock and John had to leave Elizabeth luckily had calmed down slightly and her anger had subsided. The sound of footsteps echoed on the stairs next to her room, they halted as they reached her door, hesitating. A soft knock filled her room but she stayed in her bed, unmoving she wasn't really angry anymore but she still felt like she had to prove a point.

When she didn't answer the footsteps continued down the stairs, she could swear she heard someone sigh slightly but she wouldn't react. A cab pulled away and her heart broke a little, she made her way to the living room and sat down onto Sherlock's armchair with a small sigh. They had left a note on the coffee table on which he had simply written _sorry_.

There was dinner in the kitchen and a hot kettle of tea but she neglected to eat any of them till it was incredibly late. Elizabeth picked up his violin softly and started to play a tune he had tough her. She was pretty shit at playing the violin but it was fun to try. It was strange to feel the violin, the tiny crevasse that had been made by Sherlock's constant touch. The worn feel of the bow in her hands. They helped her show where she had to place her fingers to make the violin purr.

A couple of hours later Mrs Hudson came upstairs. "Elizabeth there is someone here to see you." He spoke the word with such hatred that she had a clue who was following her up the stairs. Putting down the violin she sat slightly straighter in the chair and smiled at the landlady. She opened the door letting Mycroft Holmes enter the room. He stood tall in the door frame with his tailored suit, an umbrella loosely in his hand.

"Mycroft." She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment. "Both Sherlock and John are gone." the smile that crept up on the eldest Holmes brother freaked her out slightly. Though she tried not to show it she knew that it was no trouble at all for Mycroft to deduce it. He strode forward with the familiarity of someone who had done this a million times before taking a seat in the chair next to her.

"I wanted to talk with you actually." Swallowing she gestured for him to continue. "You see Elizabeth I am a rather curious person and I want to understand what my brother see in you and John Watson. I mean there is nothing all that interesting about you or that doctor of yours." Elizabeth felt the curious sensation of being stripped naked and observed just by the way that he glared at her.

"I don't think I can help you with that Mycroft. It is hard to teach a fish how to fly." He raised his eyebrow. "Not because I'm not bothered by emotions that I don't understand them." rolling her eyes she scoffed. "You seem so young, small, and breakable. Why does he care about you? It isn't like you are that smart or talented in anything for that matter." It took her a lot of effort not to flinch. "Yet Sherlock gets so irrational whenever you are in danger, just like with John. Sometimes it is even worse."

"Why do you say it as if it is a bad thing? Carrying for people is a good thing." It was Mycroft's turn to scuff now. A frown managed to grow as he spoke, and her inability to supress her emotions pleased him. As if it proved a point. "What do you want Mycroft?" I want to speak with you, seeing as Sherlock asked me to make sure you don't do something stupid."

She dropped back down in frustration. Of all of the people that he could have asked why did he chose him? "I must agree. I believe none of Sherlock's friends were capable of taking care of you. I am what you call a last resort." Rolling her eyes she sunk deeper into her armchair. "You are not staying in this apartment." "Of course not." he almost bit out that answer. "I have other ways to make sure you do as you are told."

"God you are such a massive creep." He simply stared at her, as if she was the biggest enigma she had ever seen. He towered above her when he stood. Waltzing forward he stopped when his toes touched hers, it took quite a lot of energy not to shrink away. His hand reached forward to grab her chin and lift it. She jerked away from the possessive gesture, it made her incredibly uncomfortable. "Get out." Mycroft raised an eyebrow before he took a couple of steps backwards.

"Why do you want me gone?" "Excuse me?" "You do not mind Sherlock yet you do not like me. Why?" That comment actually made her get out of her chair in pure frustration and anger. "Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? You are an insufferable jerk who never cares about anyone unless it could benefit you in some way. You hurt people because it is a possible for you to do so. Sherlock doesn't realise his mistakes and he makes an effort to act like a human."

This did not seem to impress him. He just got up and left her standing in the room. For some reason she always felt incredibly wrong after she spoke with Mycroft, like she had just failed at a horrible test or been eyed down by some creep on the street. After she closed all the curtains she warmed her dinner in the microwave, part of her wanted to call Sherlock and yell at him for making Mycroft spy on her. She knew for a fact that she wouldn't be able to do anything really comfortable this night.

This resulted in a rather sleepless night filled with reading and trying to stay calm, she had the horrible feeling that someone was watching her. A part of her was terrified that he had installed camera's in her room, just the idea of him or some other agents watching her freaked her out so she decided not to change her clothes, staying in her jeans all night. The horrible part was that she knew for a fact that someone was watching her, I mean Mycroft had basically told her that someone would be watching her.

The next morning she was beyond tired and as she stumbled down the stairs with her bag her felt as if she might fall asleep standing. Paranoia ran through her system when she got onto the bus even though she knew that Mycroft didn't plan to hurt her only to observe it still felt like a million of eyes were burning on her back.

Her friends immediately noticed that she was exhausted but when she told them to leave it they did as they were told. Part of their friendship was not to push each other for information, just to make sure that they were there for everyone once it was necessary. Liz managed to do pretty well throughout the day until history, she had it last period and fell asleep. She collapsed onto the books, her seat was just in front of the teacher's desk but the screen of the computer kept her hidden from view.

She finally woke with a start when the bell rang, her friends had taken notes throughout the day and gave them to her at the end of the day. Never before had she felt so thankful for her friends. Sadly her friends weren't on the bus so when she fell asleep again no one woke her up on time. The bus driver woke her up at the end of the line. Cursing her dumb luck and Mycroft she got out and waited for another bus stop, to her horror the bus wouldn't be there for another hour. The next hour she was stuck in a part of London she barely knew. Fuck.

* * *

 **Chapter 70**

* * *

To her surprise 5 minutes later a sleek black car pulled up in the front of the bus stop. A door was pushed open and there he was Mycroft sitting in the back with his umbrella between his legs and a pleasant smile on his face. It was a smile that said _I told you so._ He tapped the bed next to him as an invitation. Hating him for proving her right she sat down next to her.

"Ruff night sleep?" "Fuck you." "You should probably be a little more thankful than that, I mean I am picking you up." "Fuck you." She said again, but there was little to no heart. To her annoyance the seat were comfortable and warm and god she was so damn tired, so she fell asleep, again. This time Mycroft woke her up, only she wasn't in the car anymore she had been transferred to a bed.

Once she realised she had no clue where on earth she was she sat bolt upright and ran towards the door. It swung open with no trouble but guards stood next to her door, they grabbed her upper arms when she tried to run off. "Mam, please stay calm." panic had flooded her system but they didn't let her go. Mycroft turned the corner and his eyes looked pretty uncomfortable. Still the sight of the Holmes brother calmed her enough to stop her fighting.

"Let her go." They released her arms and she stumbled forward. "Where am I Mycroft?" "It seemed a lot more logical to have you stay in my apartment than to bring you back to 221B Bakerstreet. I can make sure you are safe." "What? You can't just move me like that! You can't do stuff like that! Does Mrs Hudson know where I am? Did you warn her?"

He sighed frustrated. "I am not stupid, I know how to handle stuff like this." Elizabeth started to walk through the hall, trying to orientate herself. "This is your apartment?" he did not dignify this with a responds, he just followed her from a small distance. The apartment was huge and luxurious. She figured that Mycroft could buy stuff like this but surely he didn't need that.

The living room was twice the size of their living room, there were large comfortable looking sofas, and a glass coffee table that looked like it could have been the round table of King Arthur. He had a chandelier hanging from the roof, easily 6 meters above the chairs. One entire wall of the room was covered with large wooden bookcases filled to the brim with old looking books. Then there was the fire place taller than she was and at least 3 meters wide.

There was a roaring fire that seemed to be authentic, though it was hard for her to picture Mycroft on his knees working with matches. Maybe he had a butler or a maid, or maybe even both. The mantle itself was decorated with carvings of what seemed to be Greek gods and goddesses, heroes from the ancient times. With a finger she traced the wooden figures of Artmis and her hunters. "Beautiful isn't it?" Ignoring him she moved to the artwork of medusas head being cut off.

"I always thought this story was quite horrible and unfair to Medusa." A concurring hum came from behind her as he agreed with her. "I always loved the stories though, the gods using the humans to play out their games. It is almost like a perfect constructed game of chess. It reminds me of real life." With a little scuff she moved towards the kitchen. "With you staring as Odin am I right."

Chuckling dryly he dropped himself down onto the couch. The kitchen reminded her slightly of the kitchen form the series Hannibal, it was all marble countertops and large open spaces. Yet again she didn't think he ever really cooked by himself, the contents of her fridge weren't all that interesting. Of his cupboards most of them were stacked with expensive looking china. Not a speck of dust though, not a single speck.

His bathroom looked like something the queen of England might use, he had a marble bubble bath and a shower with enough room to sleep in. That wasn't the most interesting part though, what really spiked her interest was the massive aquarium wall. It looked like a coral reef inside there, he had reefs of all different colours and beautiful fishes, including the Angelfish, clown fishes, Tangs in every colour, horseshoe crabs, and thousands of sea stars. She even noticed a ray or two and a small catshark.

Elizabeth sat down on the side of the bathtub and admired the fishes swim past the glass. Her heart leaped at the sight of a small octopus sitting between the coral and the tiny seahorses. All she wanted to do was climb into the tank and swim with those beautiful animals. A tiny bit of hurt ran through her as she remember the first time she went diving with her family. It had been an ideal little island in the middle of nowhere with a small coral reef just of the coast.

Apparently she had been sitting there for an hour or so because eventual Mycroft went to get her so she could have dinner. "Enjoy the view?" there was a slight mocking in his voice. "You didn't feel like going all the way to the sea to see them in their natural habitat?" "Excuse me?" "If you went out in the real world you'd see a lot more of them. It is quit unfair for you to put them in these cages."

He raised an eyebrow at her before leaving to the eating room. Only then did she notice the smell of the cooking around her, the familiar sent of a roasted chicken with fries rolled through the kitchen door. Mycroft was sitting in at the head of the table with a small platter of food in front of him. Next to him another place had been set up so she decided that she was supposed to sit there.

"Who cooked?" "Do you have any more problems with that as well?" She couldn't help herself giggle slightly. "If they are payed enough I don't mind at all." "Happy to know that you don't have a problem with everything in this house hold." "It isn't their fault that they work for you."

Mycroft looked just about done with her, and just continued to eat the food. She had to go admit that the food was pretty amazing, a part of her wanted to ask for a second portion but her pride wouldn't let her. Instead she decided to annoy him a little more. "So, when am I going back home?" Clearly the older man had been expecting this question as he barely reacted. "When Sherlock is back." "I can take care of myself Holmes. I don't need a babysitter."

"You missed your bus home didn't you?" "I am blaming you a hundred percent for that. If you hadn't been watching me like a creep through all of these cameras." "Sherlock asked you to take care of you so I am." "No. That is not the way _taking care of someone_ works. It means you come by that persons house every day and making sure they did what they have to do and have what they need. It means calling them to check up on them, or sending a text to ask if they are okay. What you were doing was spying."

"That isn't my job." "It isn't about your job. It is a favour your family asked of you that you do because you care about them." Mycroft fixed her with a stare. "This conversation is useless isn't it?" More stares. "Fine. I'll let myself out then. I am sure I'll be able to find a bus somewhere." She stopped before leaving the door. "My compliments to the chef." Finding her shoes she slipped them back on, grabbed her coat and left through the front door.

She froze in the middle of her step when she realised she was in the middle of nowhere. Where she had expected to see massive buildings and busy streets there were acers of fields and trees, they were in the middle of nature. She could have sworn that she'd seen The Shard from the window. "What the?" rushing back into the house she found Mycroft standing in the hall with a pleased smile but she rushed past him into the living room.

There was the window she had seen the building out of, but now it looked like the amazon forest, not a crappy version but the real deal. Her mouth fell open with wonder. "What the?" A soft beep came from behind her and the view in front of her corresponded with the view she had seen from the door. "What the?"

"Interesting piece of equipment isn't it?" another beep and the view in front of her was a deep ocean with no end, she stifled a gasp as a sudden pod of dolphins appeared into view. They came from bellow and she watched them swim away into the inky darkness of the endless depts. "How?" Mycroft stood next to her, his hands in his pockets as they rocked back and forth on the heels of his polished shoes.

"Brand new technology that my people are working on. This way we can easily create fake images of real things. Good for the film industry but also other things. They gave me one as a thank you." The beautiful sea images turned to a horrible post-apocalyptic version of London with burning towers and screaming people. The images was so vivid it made her take a step backwards.

"It is sometimes impossible to tell the difference between real and fake because the images are carefully constructed and the light makes your brain believe it is real. In real life it is even better, there are soft soundwaves coming from the screen that manipulate your brain." Subconsciously her fingertips touched the side of her face. "Then turn it off please. I don't like the idea of my brain being manipulated like that."

With a tiny beep the screen went see through and the farmland stretched out in front of her again. "Me neither." "There aren't a lot of busses around here are there?" "No." "You won't let me take the car." "Can you drive?" she shook her head. "Then no." sighing hard she dropped down into the soft chairs in front of the roaring fire place. "How am I going to get to school then?" "My driver will bring you. All the stuff you need is in the guest room."

"You went into my room?" "I didn't." Of course he hadn't, this meant that strangers had been her room. "That is just great." Snatching the remote from the glass table she attempted to turn on the TV. The reason she described it as attempted was because the TV wouldn't turn on while she pressed the big red button that people used to turn on stuff.

"Wrong remote." "Excuse me?" "That remote is for the sound, this one is for the TV. He handed her a different one that had been lying next to him. "Thanks." Sarcasm lay thickly in her voice as she took it from him. Zapping through the channels she attempted to look for something, it annoyed her so much that she had no way of going home. Finally _Silence of the lambs_ popped up and with a satisfied sigh she curled up in the couch.

To her surprise Mycroft didn't complain as the movie continued. In fact he seemed to be enjoying the movie. "You a fan of Hannibal." "It is a classic. I enjoy classics." The rest of the time they just sat there in silence. During the commercial break the man got up and disappeared into the kitchen, only then did she notice that somewhere during the movie he had kicked of his shoes and put on slippers. It was adorable so she snapped a picture of him.

Watching the commercials she glanced occasional at the door, the man could time stuff perfectly because the second the movie returned onto the screen he sat back down next to her. He was holding two cups of tea and handed one to her. Now that was even more surprising than the slippers. He must have made the tea himself yet it was properly made.

"Thanks." There was no sarcasm this time and still the thanks seemed to surprise him. Once the movie was over she wondered back to the room she had woken up in, she had no idea where Mycroft was going but she couldn't be bothered. The next day she didn't have school because of some kind of special holiday but that didn't matter right now. She crawled into bed and checked her phone. One message from John.

 _You okay?_

She send back a wink because she decided staying angry was stupid. After a little of consideration she send the picture of Mycroft in his flip-flops and slightly messed up hair.

 _Are you at his place?_

Oh, so he hadn't been informed. _Unfortunately yes._

 _Is he treating you alright?_

 _Don't worry about it. He is feeding me and giving me a place to sleep so it is okay. It is only a little bit creepy._

 _If he does something, just tell us._

 _Case going okay?_

 _Don't worry about it. Sherlock has full controle._

 _Okay, goodnight._

 _Night Elizabeth._

* * *

 **Chapter 71**

* * *

Next 'morning' (it was 10 o clock) the light through the window finally managed to wake her up. Slipping her feet into the fluffiest and comfortable socks she started on her way to the kitchen. Mycroft was nowhere to be found so she just started to make toast with scrambled eggs. While sitting at the glass coffee table she turned the TV on again and sat on the carpeted floor.

By the time her food was gone and her plates were clean she started to wonder through the house. She expected to find some servants or security around the house but there was no one else there. The entire first floor was empty, so the second floor it was. When she reached the top of the stairs a soft murmuring was audible from one of the rooms. Though the words were drowned out she clearly recognized Mycroft Holmes' voice. Steering clear of his office she continued her investigation, until she found a bedroom.

Grinning she stepped into the perfectly made room to snoop. The bed was identical to her own, slightly more worn. There was a little desk next to his bed with a couple of photographs. Picking up one of the frames she studied the faces of the different people. Two of the boys looked extremely familiar but she couldn't place them directly. Next to them was another young boy with a black eyepatch and a ginger head of hair.

The boy with the black curls was wearing a pirate hat that is when it hit her hard. That was Sherlock, young Sherlock living his dream of being a pirate. That means that the other boy was Mycroft Holmes. Part of her wondered about eyepatch kid, clearly he had been Sherlock's friend.

The picture was of the three boys playing at a river bed, Mycroft was sitting a little further of the rest. Both of the men looked adorable as kids, especially Mycroft with his chubby little cheeks. Putting down this photograph she picked up the next one. It was of a slightly older couple, they were holding hands and smiling at each other in an old bright red sofa.

Confused she stared at the picture a little closer and those eyes, those smiles, those faces, they just looked so familiar. Of course! They were Mrs and Mr Holmes, Sherlock's parents. They looked so very normal and slightly chubby. "Elizabeth." In horror she spun around to see Mycroft standing in the doorway. "Please get out of my room." his face looked like stone and she quickly got out of his room. "Sorry." She whispered as she passed him in the doorway.

Elizabeth hurried downstairs to her room, shame had flushed her cheeks red. Mycroft had all the right to be pissed off at her which only made it feel worse, she shouldn't have been snooping in his house. But then again, he shouldn't have forced her to stay in his house, he should have just let her go home the way normal people did, so you know. Karma?

Still she should probably say sorry, though no part of her ever wanted to say sorry to a man like Mycroft Holmes. So… she should do something to set this right because she had been out of line. Throwing herself down onto the matrass she started to ponder on what she should probably do. Suddenly she jumped out of the bed and headed to the kitchen. She flung open the fridge and started to look through his food, surely she could whip up something easy and quick as a sorry.

Closing the fridge she looked through the rest of the closets and cupboards. Everything she would need to make a chocolate fudge cake was there, this would surely please him. I mean no one could ever say no to chocolate fudge. Putting her headphones in she started to listen to an audiobook while she cooked. Unaware of the fact that Mycroft had come down the stairs she listened to the story of the _Raven boys_ unfolding into her ears.

The man was looking at the girl standing in his kitchen, the smell of chocolate was in the kitchen and she was moving through the kitchen isle. Elizabeth was cooking something for him and he wasn't entirely sure why. Suddenly she chuckled loudly at something that he couldn't hear and turned around. Clearly she hadn't thought that he would be standing there as the bowl in her hand slipped out of her fingers.

The mix would have shattered on the tiles if his reflexes hadn't kicked in. "Oh." He handed her back the ceramic bowl. "What are you doing?" "I honestly thought that a man with your capacity would be perfectly capable of deducing that I am making you a volcano cake."

Rolling his eyes he dipped a finger in the mixture and ate it before leaving the kitchen again. As the suited man returned upstairs she almost decided to leave the unfinished food on the counter. The only thing stopping her from just walking away was the fact that the smell had made her hungry.

So she decided to take the high road and made the damn brownies. 30 minutes later a soft ding rang through the kitchen area announcing the cake being finished. Elizabeth pulled the warm dish out of the oven and let it cool down a little until it was ready to be eaten. So she pushed her pride down into her stomach and brought a slice up to Mycroft's bureau, she had decorated it with powdered sugar, raspberries and strawberries.

Knocking softly at his door she entered, Mycroft was in the middle of a conference call. He glared at her when she entered the room as he seemed to be in the middle of a very important conference call which included a video feed. She smiled apologetic though a tiny bit of smugness did shine through her mask but placed the piece of cake on his table. To be honest she nearly dropped it when she recognized the face on the screen. For a couple of seconds she stared at her face before Mycroft nudged her slightly. "Mrs Obama…" she managed to stammer out before hurryingly making a very inelegant exit by stumbling over the carpet.

At the other side of the massive oaken door she let out a shocked little life before resting her back against the cool surface of the door. Holy shit. Why was Mycroft talking with Mrs Obama? Why did they know each other? She was pretty sure that they were calling each other by their first name. All she wanted to do that instant was call Sherlock or John or a friend to tell them that she just saw Michelle freaking Obama.

Another small giggle escaped her mouth as she headed down the stairs back to her kitchen and grabbed her phone again. Sinking down into the comfort of her armchair she dialled the number of a Chinese takeout place. Turning on the television she waited a couple of minutes for the food to arrive. She had ordered enough dumplings, spring rolls, fried rice with tofu, orange chicken, sweet and sour chicken and vegetables lo mein.

2 hours after the food arrived there was still no sign of Mycroft and she was getting pissed off again, they hadn't exactly agreed on eating at the same time this still frustrated her immensely. The fact that he had stood her up and was still talking on the phone, probably with Mrs Obama. A couple of hours ago she had been so amazed with his connections to the former first lady but now they pissed her off. How times changed things.

A sudden thrill made her aware of a text message that had come in, the name that showed up was that of the oldest Holmes brother. _Extreme busy schedule tonight. Won't be downstairs till at least 3 am._ The fact that he had even thought of telling her was actually quit touching so she decided to do the right thing. _I have Chinese food down here. Can I bring it up?_ It took him a couple of minutes but finally he answered. _Yes._ So she pushed herself out of the soft and warm chair to bring the plate with food up to his room.

This time she found him bend over his keyboard typing at quite an impossible speed. "Thanks Elizabeth." "Yeah sure… no problem." There was an awkward silence. "So Michelle Obama?" "Yes, we have known each other for quite a long time." Another silence. "The cake was good." "Thanks." Smacking her lips a little she turned on her heels. "I'll leave you too your work." Good this man was even more awkward than his brother.

Though she still really wanted to go back home there wasn't any real reason for her to leave so going to sleep in her room seemed like a solid plan. She'd get him to bring her back home tomorrow, now sleep. Elizabeth curled up into her bed with a chocolate milk and her book. She'd loose herself in the world of the amber spyglass for a couple of hours before going to sleep.

The next morning she woke up to an empty house and a breakfast in the micro wave. On the kitchen table there was a small piece of paper. _A car will pick you up at 11:30._ Oh. So she was going to go home today. Good. She wanted to go home… she just didn't think she wouldn't get to say goodbye before he left. Well what did she expect from the man that 'was' the British government, Sherlock Holmes' brother and who was a friend of Michelle Obama? Why would he feel the need to say goodbye? At least he made sure that she had some kind of breakfast.

Warming up the oatmeal she started to pack up her stuff, it was strange how quickly all of her stuff got spread out throughout the house. True to his word at 11:30 a car pulled up in front of the house which brought her home. Sherlock and John got back an hour later, they agreed on telling her everything that had happened in Baskerville. From Lestrade showing up to Sherlock drugging John, which pissed her of so much that she almost smacked him.

The fact that the dog had to be shot hurt her more than what happened to the killer. When Sherlock left to go to bed John told her the part of the story he had left out. John told her everything about Sherlock's panic attack, they both agreed that they shouldn't tease him with it. The man rarely spoke about his emotions to them so they would keep this a serious matter till… Well till forever probably.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you have any opinions.


	10. Chapter 10 - Time for a tragic backstory

**Chapter 72**

* * *

After the big fight times had been a little tense, they had forgiven each other of course and buried the hatched. Whenever a case popped up however there was an awkwardness around the house. All of them got tense and at a certain pointed it exploded because Elizabeth would always ask to go anyway. The arguments were actually valid she asked to go on the cases that were simple, the ones that weren't dangerous, the simple mysteries and not the ones with death written all over it.

The boys didn't budge they just didn't want her to get hurt again, they never wanted to see her get hurt again. So if that meant they had to keep her away from the cases they would. If they had to fight almost daily they would. From time to time Liz would end up sulking in her room and Sherlock would end up sulking in his room and John would… Well John was an adult so he would end up sulking in the living room with a cup of tea. Because that is how adults sulk.

That was until Elizabeth found herself her own case. One day during school she found a boy crying in a locker. Yeah I know, how often you find that. The worst part was that the kid was actually pretty long so he didn't even fit correctly, his legs were cramped in there horribly and his arm was dislocated. She'd been wandering through out the halls after hours because of a meeting with the school board.

While walking to the bike stand she heard a soft sobbing coming from her left. "Hello?" the sobbing stopped immediately with a soft gasp. "Is someone here?" Silence. "Hellllooo?" When no one answered she decided to leave figuring she had made a mistake but stopped when someone tapped on a locker. "Hi." The voice was low and timid and coming out of a locker. "Are… Are you stuck in there?" They didn't answer her for a couple of seconds. "Please help me." the whimper was so horribly fearful it broke her heart.

The door was locked and she couldn't get it open. "Do you know the combination?" "No! Please get me out of here I am claustrophobic! Please my arm hurts!" "I'll get you out of here. Just give me a minute." "Please hurry." His voice had risen a couple of octaves in panic. "Okay I have a plan." John had given her a switch blade with several different functions. "I am going to get you out. Don't worry." Okay… John had given her the knife but Sherlock had taught her how to really use it.

Getting onto her knees she shoved the knife into the side of the locker door. "Careful. I am going to open the door." It only took her couple of seconds before the lock popped open. The sight she was met with was quit horrible, a boy cramped up into a locker. "Oh my god." Elizabeth carefully grabbed his arm and started to work him free. His black was completely matted against his forehead because of the sweat.

He was at least 2 heads taller than her but now he was almost bend over double. "Hey are you okay?" he had one of his hands wrapped around his other elbow in an effort to keep his arm steady. "Your arm actually looks kind off painful. Did you break it?" He pulled away from her a little while trying not to make eye contact with her. "Hey come on talk to me. I just took you out of a locker."

"Thank you for that but I am okay now." the kid almost managed to walk by her but she quickly moved in front of him. "At least tell me you are going to get that arm checked out Bob." He stopped and locked at her in shock. "Bob? My name isn't Bob." She smiled broadly at him. "If you aren't going tell me what your name is I am going to guess Jack." He chuckled lightly, his eyes got a little bit of shine in them. "Jonathan?" "Really? Jonathan?" "So what is your name then?"

He sighed at her but conceded. "Sam. My name is Sam." "Okay Sam listen up my friend is a licenced doctor so if you come with me he'll check you out for free. No questions asked." "You don't have to do that for me." he looked so much smaller when he was acting sheepish.

"It is nothing. I would feel terrible if you just walked out of school with that arm. If you won't do it for yourself do it for me please? It would make it easier for me." it wasn't the entire truth and it was partially to manipulate him and he knew it. Clearly he was thankful for the easy way out so he conceded. "Come on, he lives only a couple of blocks away."

As they turned to leave Sam let out a hurried shout and pivoted to grab his bag which had still been in the locker, shoved between his legs. "How did you get me out anyway?" his face had turned slightly less red though his eyes were still rather puffy from crying. With a broad smile she produced the switchblade from her pocket. "My friend taught me how to break in to stuff. It also works to break people out of stuff." He chuckled dryly as they left the school building, his bag hung awkwardly over his one good arm while he still cradled the injured one.

"You know.'" she started hesitantly. "I am pretty sure it is just dislocated. If you want I could put it back in." His face was one of horror at her words and he took a couple of steps to the side, away from her. "Don't worry. A doctor showed me how. We'd still have to go to a doctor though, to have it checked out."

His face was still ashen from her proposition and probably the pain didn't help either. "So why would you shove it in then? If we are going to the doctors anyway?" "Well I imagine it is hurting a quite a bit and once it is in the pain will go away. Also the longer it is out the easier it will be for it to pop out of it. Again." If his face had been ashen before it was about as white as that of a mime now. "I am not going to force you. Calm down. Jesus I am no monster. It is just an option." Biting his lips slightly he raised his head to meet his eyes. "Have you ever done it before?"

"Not really." she admitted. "But he taught it too me! I swear I know how. It isn't that hard." But he stopped her before she could continue. "Oh hell no. If you think that I am going to let you shove my arm back in place if you have never done it before you are crazy!" "Fine…" the bus stopped only a little bit in front of them and they hurried onto the vehicle. The silence that followed was excruciating, boring and needed to stop so Elizabeth took the necessary step. "Hey. Do you need to use my phone to tell someone you'll be home later or to find a way home after this?"

Sam was worrying at his shirt a little. "Not really. No one will be home until a couple of hours so they won't know that I am not home." He was a horrible liar. "How about finding a bus?" He taught about it for a second before nodding. "Here you go." He took the phone from her with a little smile. "You know what would help, if I knew where we were actually going."

"Oh right. Yeah, we are going to Bakerstreet. 221B Bakerstreet." That was the exact moment she saw what Sam chocking would look like. This exact moment his face looked bedsheet white and he was biting his own lip so hard it had gone bright red. Actually he kind of looked like Snow white if she was a man, even his hair was that kind of coal black. "You live in the apartment 221B Bakerstreet?" "Yeah? Why?" "Isn't that where the famous detective lives?"

"You know Sherlock?" "Of course I know Sherlock! Everyone knows Sherlock Holmes! I love his blog!" "Actually Sherlock doesn't write the blog. You couldn't catch him dead writing such dramatic versions of his stories." "So who writes them?" "John." "Who?" a tiny bit of frustration coursed through her veins when people forgot about John's existence. "Yes Doctor John Watson. Ex-military? Sherlock closest friend? Sherlock's partner in crime?"

"He wrote those stories? I had no idea." "Yeah he is freaking fantastic. Without him Sherlock would be screwed seven ways from Saturday. The man is a hero. Plus he is the one that is going to heal your arm." "Oh really?" "Yeah. He is an amazing doctor, he is the reason I am still alive. Because he created the blog their practice is going quite good. A lot of people now know him so we are getting a shitload of cases." Halfway through her story she realised that he had been staring at her hand, or rather at the part of her hand that wasn't there anymore."

Though she had gotten used to people staring at her scars it was still a little awkward. "Oh so you know about the entire uhm." Instead of finishing her sentence she just gestured at her hands. "Well there is only one person in our school who is friends with Sherlock Holmes so yeah. It wasn't all that hard to figure it out." "Did you see the… the video." "The video? Oh yeah I know the video but I have never actually seen it. People told me what was on it, it sounded so horrible I didn't want see it. I mean it is someone being tortured, who would ever want to see that?"

"4.168.002 people." "What?" "4.168.002 people watched." "That doesn't sound possible. How could so many people bare to watch stuff like this?" "Yeah I know what you mean. Apparently they thought it was joke. Sherlock, John and I have encountered a couple of people who have congratulated me on the acting in the video." "Holy shit." "Yeah I know."

"So why did you come back." "What do you mean?" "I figured if you would return home after, after _it._ " "It? Really?" "I mean don't you have a family at home? Why did you not go home? Why did you move in with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson? Why?" "I don't want to talk about it." It came out a lot more snappish and rude than she meant it too but it had the desired effect. There was no way in hell she was ready to talk about her family to a stranger on a bus.

"Sorry…" he mumbled whatever comfort he had been feeling before disappeared at her tone. "No." she sighed loudly. "It isn't your fault. I just. Let's not talk about it." "Alright." The conversation didn't swell up again. Instead the dude just turned towards the window and clearly uncomfortable. "Need a pill?" "Excuse me?" "A pill, a pain killer. You look like hell."

"Well thank you. You know what I mean. You just look like you are in a lot of unnecessary pain." "No I am not." Again she sighed while pulling her backpack onto her knees, she fished out a small white pill and a bottle of water. "You think after living with Sherlock for a year or two I wouldn't learn how to pick up on a lie? Here take it? It will really help."

He didn't immediately react instead just stared at the pill in her fingers. "Oh my god I am not going to poison you it is just a pain killer. It will kill your pain not you." "Fine. Thanks." Swallowing down the pill he nodded a small thanks. "You'll feel a lot better in a couple of minutes." "So…" he tapped his foot on the floor of the bus a couple of times. "Is there anything we can talk about? I mean I am pretty sure my parents told me never to go to a stranger's home…"

"Okay sure. Tell me something about you Sam." "That is such an annoying question you know that." "Okay, I will narrow it down a little for you. What do you want to do next year?" he bit his lip slightly frustrated. "I have literally know clue. I am good at nothing." "That can't be true! Everyone is good at something." "Nothing." "Math?" "Nope." "Science. Oh god no, I'll make anything explode, even the worms in our biological class." "Oh my god no!" she chuckled loudly. "Not the worms!"

"Ha. Yeah even the worms." "Okay… So French?" "Je ne parle pas français." "So you must be like some arties guy right?" "Not an inch of talent in my body." "History?" "Well, I guess I am actually not that bad at history." "There we go!" "But I don't want to become a history professor." Leaning back against her chair she sunk down into her thought. "So what about outside of school?" he copied her exact posture. "I guess so. I am pretty good at anything that has to do farming." "Farming really? How did that happen?" An actual smile started to grow onto his face. "Well actually my mum has a farm and I have been going to work there for at least 6 years now. I have gotten rather good at it so maybe I could do something with that."

"Your mum has a farm! That is so cool! What kind of thing?" "She has everything there is. Kettle, cornfields, green houses and all of these things. I love working there so much." "So why don't you stay there longer? Why go to school if you can work there! Like I know that school is something mandatory but you know, during the weekends and such." The confident face fell a little as he stared at his lap. "My mum doesn't actually want me around there."

"Wait what? What do you mean…?" "I don't want to talk about it." though his tone was a little less hostile than hers but it was a pretty clear line in the sand. "Alright… sorry. Would you like to talk about something else?" "Sure. Tell me what you want to do with your future." "Defenitly something with biology! I am not going to blow up worms instead I am going to save the orcas."

"The orcas really?" "Those or the sharks." "Uh sharks. I would never want to go swimming with those. What if they eat you?" "Oh please sharks don't actually eat humans. They got such a bad rap after Jaws." Sam grinned at her a little. "Oh we are here! Come on, follow me."

* * *

 **Chapter 73**

* * *

"Don't forget your bag Sam!" she yelled as she jumped out of the bus. Some part of her desperately wanted to use her silver key from her chain to impress him but that was a little stupid so instead she used her normal house key like a normal person. Out of habit she moved the door knob straight, mostly to piss of Sherlock of but also because it should be straight! Sam joined her and she realised yet again how tall he was, he was standing taller than normal.

"Does your arm still hurt?" "Kind of, a little less bad than before." "Ha I told you it would work." "Don't gloat." Elizabeth laughed at him as they walked into the apartment. "Hey Mrs Hudson! I am home! Is John here?" the elderly woman came from the kitchen holding an entire tray full of cookies. "Oh Elizabeth who is this? I had no clue who you were bringing someone over." Rolling her eyes she grabbed a cookie from the tray. "His name is Sam and he is the reason I need John."

It was quite cute to see Sam trying to greet Mrs Hudson properly with his arm in an awkward angle and his head bent down to keep away from the ceiling. "He dislocated his shoulder." "Oh sweetheart you can't keep bringing people home for John to heal. He is an actual doctor you know." "Don't talk about him like he is some kind of stray dog. Sit down Sam."

"Oh I don't want to be a bother. I'll just go, don't worry about it." "No just take a cookie and relax. John is a doctor but he hasn't had a patient since Sherlock came down with a flu. He loves to help people." The boy took the seat next to her and took the cookie Mrs Hudson offered. "Where is he by the way?" "Went to the store to get milk. He will be back in 5 minutes or so. Do you like tea Sam?" "Of course he likes tea all British people like tea." She mocked.

"Why do you need the doctor Sam?" He gestured a little at his arm. "It is dislocated." "Oh god!" though her voice sounded shocked and surprised yet she didn't even waver while making the tea. "How long has it been like that?" his face had gone a little red. "Maybe an hour or so." "I offered to pop it in again." She mumbled. "Elizabeth! John explained to you how to do it once! You shouldn't just shove someone's arm back into their sockets! You know this Elizabeth!" "John said the longer you wait the worse it gets!" she hated being proved wrong. "You are not a doctor, Elizabeth." A stern Mrs Hudson stared down at her making her swallow her reply. Yet Sam was the one who looked flustered.

"Is Sherlock here?" "Yeah he is upstairs." "Okay." she got up. "Sit back down Elizabeth he is experimenting." Rolling her eyes she dropped back into the chair. "Is it that bad?" "Uhm." She replied. "What do you mean? Experimenting?" Part of her wanted to ruffle Sam's hair, but that was a little awkward. "He experiments in our kitchen. It gets a toxic upstairs. He is immune but we aren't." "I don't understand." "Neither do I." With a familiar crook the door opened. "Liz! Are you home? I need a hand!"

"Hey John!" the door closed with a bang as she helped him with the bags. "No Sam, sit back down! Your arm is hurt you are not helping with the bags." "Oh. Hello. Who are you?" Sam smiled kindly. "Hi. I am Sam. I am Elizabeth's…" when he trailed off the doctor's eyebrow raised up a little. "Friend?" he glanced nervously at her. "Yeah sure friend. I mean I found him in a locker but yeah friend."

"You found him? In a locker? What the?" it was at that exact moment that he saw his arm. "Your arm! Why didn't you say anything? Show me." Sam sat back down and held out his arm for John who had put down the plastic shopping bag. "It is dislocated." "He wouldn't let me pop it back." "Liz!" "What?" indignation was written all over her face. " _You_ are the one who taught me how to do it!"

" _Elizabeth Emilie Van Parijs_! You are not a doctor! You will not set someone arm unless it is the only way for them to escape a dangerous situation!" "OMG fine!" Carefully he took his arm moving it quickly. The sickening pop that followed made all of them physically ill and even made Sam cry out a little. "There we go. All good." Sam rubbed his arm tentatively.

"Okay, but come upstairs for a second so I can check it." grabbing hold of the bags again they headed upstairs. "I thought it wasn't safe to go up?" Sam whispered. "Oh? No, no. I mean it is safe, it just stinks like all hell in there." John shoved the door open with her foot. "Hey Sherlock Liz brought a boy home." "I did not! I DID NOT SHERLOCK!" a barely audible mumble came from the kitchen accompanied by a foul odour, it came down to _I don't care._

"Take a seat Sam I'll be there in a second." They carried the bags towards the kitchen. "So… you found him… in a locker." "Yeah…" "How did that happen?" "I am not sure. He didn't tell me." Sherlock was bend over the kitchen counter and the massive amount of test tubes on top of it. Some of them were brightly coloured, others were above a small fire. Honestly they had a Bunsen burner yet Sherlock decided that burning a bunch of papers was a better and more controllable fire.

The bright pink fluid was slowly turning into a mushy brown colour. "Whatcha doing?" His answer stayed the same, an incoherent mumble. Sighing a little they left Sherlock to his experiments, one of which was sparking a little, and returned to the living room. "Oh. Oh no." Elizabeth grabbed at Johns shoulder. "Sam get up." "What? What did I do? Did I break something?" the teenager leaped out the dark brown leather chair. "No. No. It is just that _that"_ she gestured at the chair. "Is Sherlock's chair."

"What? Is he like Sheldon of big bang theory?" "No he doesn't like it, please just take a seat there." Clearly it took him quite a bit of self-controle not to roll his eyes at the notion but he took a seat. "Okay, I'll check it quickly but I think your arm won't be a big problem." Elizabeth stood in the doorway watching the two of them when Sherlock joined her.

"Locker boy?" "I guess." In anticipation of his next remark she held up a hand. "No. Don't tell me his secrets or his desires. You know the rules." At the same time he rolled his eyes he moved back to the kitchen. "Yes, yes unless they are planning on killing someone I keep my mouth shut." Sam winced a bit when John put more pressure on his arm. "Everything okay over there?" "Yes don't worry. He is perfectly fine." He turned to address Sam again. "Just keep calm for a couple of days and then you are going to be good as new."

"Thanks Doctor." "Please call me John. You are welcome by the way, it was really no problem." "Well I am happy you are okay Mr Locker boy." "Oh god no that isn't going to be a thing. Please don't let this be a thing." "Fine Sam. Grab your bag, I'll show you out." On their way down she started to wonder why he actually was in a locker. "So… am I ever going to find out what you were doing in that locker?"

"Uhm… Maybe but I rather not talk about it right now." "Al right. But remember I saved your ass so you own me one." Snickering slightly he pulled open the door. "Oh is that how we are going to play this? Well in that case just put me back in that locker." "Bye Sam." "Bye. And thanks Elizabeth." Once back upstairs she found herself in the midst of a huge argument. John was covered in a bright purple powder that was making his clothes smoke slightly while Sherlock's entire nose had gone black.

"I told you to be careful! This is our kitchen not some kind of science room! Why do you think that is appropriate?" "I need to do my experiments!" "Then do them in your room!" "I don't have any flat surfaces to put all of this!" he made a hug swooping notion with his hands. This resulted in him accidently throwing a bunch of solutions onto the ground. Apparently they were not supposed to mix them together which meant a tiny explosion on the kitchen tiles.

"God damn it Sherlock I have had enough!" both men swerved towards her. "I am gone for 10 seconds and you have caused an explosion!" "Elizabeth that isn't fair!" "Yes it is Sherlock! Go to Saint Bart's if you want to experiment! They will let you do whatever you want there!" "But!" "No buts! No more experiments in the kitchen! John is purple!" "Liz!" "Not in the kitchen!" "Lizzy?!" "No!"

* * *

 **Chapter 74**

* * *

Next day during lunch Elizabeth spotted Sam sitting alone in the far corner of the lunch room so instead of going to their normal table she led her friends to the back. "Hi Sam! How is your arm?" the night before he had been quite confident at the end but now his face turned bright red at the sight of the women. "Can we take a seat?" Her friends had heard the story of the 'locker boy' so they had a clue about what is going. "Yeah. I mean sure." he stuttered slightly. "So your arm?" repeating her former question they took a seat. "Oh no I am fine."

Paige, Kya and Alex sat down next to her and Sam none of them really understanding what was going on. "Oh so this is Paige, Kya and Alex they are my friends of class." He waved slightly which was followed by an awkward silence. A part of her was starting to regret sitting down here, it had felt so right in the beginning. Luckily Ulf dropped into a chair next to her and threw an arm around her. "How are you sweetheart?" "Good! Bored out of my mind but good." she pointed at Sam. "This is Sam. Sam this is Ulf." "Oh Locker boy! Hi!"

Taking a deep breath Sam rolled his eyes at her through from underneath his hair. She caught his gaze which seemed to say really? Really Elizabeth. He wasn't wrong. "So what are we doing?" "Do we have to do something?" "Oh Paigy Paigy Paige. Of course we have to do something! We have 30 minutes of pure freedom before we have to return to torture of lesson after lesson. So if you question is do we have to _do something_. Than yes!"

Strangely it was Sam who reacted first with a dry chuckle. "What is so funny Locker boy?" If he wanted to Ulf he could be terrifying, she remembered the first time she had met him. It was even worse now that his hair was fiery bright red hair, it made his face horrible pale and his eyes an ice cold blue.

They joked about it made fun of him for it but for strangers it could be a bit intimidating. "School isn't that bad." "Oh please don't tell me you are a nerd! We don't need another nerd in our group!" "Another nerd?" Paige frowned at them. "Alex is our nerd, we don't need another one. So if you are going to be part of our group we need to make sure you are something we don't have yet." "What? Ulf do you have us categorized into groups?"

"Well duh." "What am I?" Elizabeth knew she shouldn't have asked but it was too late now. "Ready for this?" "No! I regret it already! Don't tell me!" "Okay listen up. First of all, Alex is our nerd. Kya is our hippie, Paige is our Asian anime fan. Eliana is the geek and I am the punk one. You Elizabeth is our special needs victim."

"Special needs victim?" "Yes you create the spice we all need in our life." he turned back to Sam. "So, what can you bring to the group?" Sam tried to answer but Ulf just shoved his feet onto his desk with a massive grin plastered on his face. Coughing a little Sam responded. "Well I guess I am the sociopath." This actually managed to take them all by surprise. "What?" "Yeah. You didn't list a sociopath so I can be that."

Ulf blinked a couple of times in disbelieve. "Are you serious?" "No. I am joking!" Swinging his legs to the floor Ulf made his way towards Sam and clapped the kid on his shoulder. "I think you will be our joker. You up for that." "Uhm… that is an interesting proposition. But I need a reason for that." A dry chuckle came from Elizabeth's direction. "Oh please locker boy, you own it too me. I saved your arm so now you join our gang of merry men."

Twitching in his chair Sam groaned a little. "Fine. You convinced me, I'll join you." Alex threw an arm around Sam. "Welcome to the dark side Sam. It is extremely cosy." The next couple of days Sam became more and more part of their group and slowly they found out more about him. One day Elizabeth and Sam were sitting on the benches of the playground waiting for the rest to come back from their school trip.

"So Sam. You actually never told me how you ended up in the locker." His reaction was predictable, the seized up a little and shoved a tiny bit away from her. "You don't have to tell me Sam, I understand if you don't want to tell me. I just need you to know that I can trust me." "It isn't that I don't trust you. It just isn't something I like to talk about. Especially not here." "Why not here?" "Because everyone can hear."

She pondered for a little while. "Okay, so maybe we can go grab a cup of tea after school and talk somewhere more private." "Ha! It is a date!" "What is a date?" Kya popped up from behind the bench. "Sam and I are going on a romantic candle light dinner, want to join?" "Ewe no! You too are not my type!" Sam faked shock. "If I am not your type than what in god's name can please your entitled ass?" Leaping upwards she settled down in between Sam and Elizabeth.

"I need them to be tall, balled, and black, six pack and hot as all hell." "Wow high standards much?" "She wants the Rock Sam, don't be daft." "Really? The Rock?" when the bell rang Elizabeth and Sam drove of together towards the nearest park. They took a seat in a cute little tea shop, ordered themselves a cup of Oolong tea and settled down. "So. The locker?" "The locker." Sam sighed. "My brother was the one to push me into it." "I didn't know you had a brother." "He is my half-brother really and he doesn't feel like a brother. Okay, uhm. I don't know how to talk about this. I mean without context this is going to be weird."

"So give me context." "Then it is going to be a little long…" "I have all day." "Alright then. Uhm. When I was little my parents were still together and I had this older brother called Dean. God he was my everything, I looked up to him so much, he was basically my hero. Whenever I got into trouble my brother would stick up for me, we'd always play together. I loved him so much. Then one day when I was playing in the garden I wandered of a little too far and lost my way."

His voice wavered a bit. "Take your time Sam." His smile was a little watery. "Okay, so I got lost and I mean I was 6 at the time so I couldn't find my way back, I didn't have a phone and I was too scared to ask someone for help. So my parents drove around the block looking for me and my brother decided to bike through the neighbourhood to find me. He was only 10. He didn't put on his light, he didn't wear a helmet or flu. It was dark and misty so he was hard to see. A car. They didn't see. He got hit."

Burrowing his head in his hands he shuddered. "The car just drove off, leaving Dean on the ground alone in the dark. He wasn't found until half an hour later by a couple driving by, the paramedics told my parents that his death had been rather slow and painful. He didn't die immediately, he bled out." "Oh god." Elizabeth got up and wrapped her arms around the boy. He was crying a little.

"Uhm… While my brother was dying my parents were busy persuading me to get in the car. If I hadn't gotten lost, if I had just behaved my brother would have never gotten on that bike." "Hey Sam it isn't your fault. You didn't do this." Sam chuckled a little bit too much and let his head rest on her shoulder. "That isn't what my parents thought. I was the reason my brother was gone, I was the reason that my family broke." She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. "It didn't take long for my parents to break up and get a divorce.

The split wasn't good. They fought all the time and couldn't agree on anything, neither of them went to my brother's funeral because they couldn't be in the same room. After the divorce I ended up stuck with my dad, he didn't choose me but the court gave him custody. The reason I spend my summers in my mums farm because she has too keep me in a couple of months. This is the only reason my mother lets me go to her house. I never asked to work there, she told me I could only stay there if I earned my keep."

"Oh god. I had no idea. You told me that you loved farming. I taught you had an amazing time there." "You couldn't have known. I didn't want you to know. It only got a lot worse after that. My dad remarried to this lovely lady called Jess but she had a son. His name is Leonardo and he is two years older than me…" "Oh! Leonardo is your brother? I had no idea. Isn't he a bit of a … asshole." "Yeah. He is horrible, he bullies me to know end. He is a massive stereotype. He is a beanstalk of a man, able-bodied and a first class football player."

"Wait. If he is two years older than you why is he still in our school?" "Like I say he is a pure stereotype. Strong as a horse but dumb as can be." When her frown didn't disappear he explained. "He had to redo his year. It didn't improve his attitude. Anyway I am not like him. Obvious." He gestured at his own body when he said it. "He hates me so much. Since I met him he has been bullying me. In the beginning it was a subtle shove or he would make me trip. I tried to tell my dad but he ignored me and told me I was lying for attention.

The more serious my dad started to date that woman the more I saw Leonardo, he became an even bigger asshole. He started to become more aggressive so when I showed the bruises my dad would just ignore them. There was nothing I could do to stop him, it only got worse when they moved in together and I had to change school to here." He sighed a little then. "Anyway when you found me shoved in that locker it was Leonardo who shoved me in there."

"Why?" "Nothing. I bumped into him during lunch time, or well actually he bumped into me but that isn't important. It resulted in some of his spinach falling from his plate which pissed them off big time. So he shoved me in the locker. I don't really fit into, it hurt me so damn much. I could feel my arm being shoved out of scot, he couldn't fit me but he forced my body into there. So yeah that is the story of me getting stuck in the locker."

He finished the story with a broken chuckle. "I… I didn't. I didn't think this was what." Elizabeth fell silent, completely lost for words. "I am so sorry Sam. You don't deserve this." She pulled Sam deep into a hug and didn't want to let him go. "I wish I could help you." "You have helped me a lot Liz. Do you have any idea how many people walked past me in that locker and ignored me? You stopped. You helped me out of the locker and stayed with me. You have made my life so much better."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading yet another chapter. This will be my last 'filler' story before the story will start following the storyline of BBC Sherlock again.


	11. Chapter 11 - Time to find a unicorn

**Chapter 75**

* * *

After hearing Sam's story Elizabeth felt horrible, all she wanted to do was swaddle him in blankets and feed him hot chocolate. But she realised that this was the one thing she knew she shouldn't do that. The last thing she wanted after her torture was to being treated like a victim, so instead she treated him as normal. The only thing that changed was that whenever she saw Leonardo in the hallway she would stand a little closer to Sam. She also started to notice how he tensed up whenever someone shoved him or whenever someone was yelling. So she'd squeezing his arm a bit whenever she noticed him tense up.

He rarely said he appreciated it but he put his head onto her shoulder with a little sigh. The rest of the group quickly picked up the vibe and they started to realise that Leonardo was bad. When he was spotted in school all of them got in formation to protect him, they didn't think he would try anything when they were around. Surprisingly one day Sam actually told them that the bullying had gone down a notch, apparently Ulf scared Leonardo and the fact that Sam was friends with Sherlock Holmes 'daughter' didn't sit comfortable either.

Still life didn't become truly really normal for him after that. Not because his 'brother' had backed down a little didn't mean he had stopped completely. He was a lot slyer now which meant that all of the attacks were unexpected and undetectable. Well not undetectable but it made them easier to ignore by her family. One day Elizabeth was shocked to recognize the long red scars on his cheek. The wound ran from her right eyebrow down to his upper lip.

"What happened?" "Leon got me." "Leon? You mean to tell me that Leonardo scratched you like that?" horror coated her voice at the thought. "No no no." he reassured me. "Our cat is named Leon, but it was Leonardo's fault." "I didn't even know you have a cat." "Yeah, he is the only good thing to come from my dad remarriage. The young cat is so playful and sweet." "So what _did_ happen?" He rubbed his cheek a tiny bit.

"Leonardo drove him wild with catnip and a laser pointer. At a certain point when the cat had gone crazy he pointed the laser at my face. I had been lying on the couch with my book when the cat leaped onto my face and attacked it. Almost took out my eye." She blinked unassured what to say when your friends tell you their brother set a cat on them. "I… I didn't see that coming." "Neither did I." the light way he said it made a smile crack on her face. She looped her arm around his shoulder as they walked towards the cafeteria.

There were several different incidents after that. A mysterious cut appeared on Sam's thumb, caused by a knife that had slipped during cutting vegetables. If you were to believe Leonardo. You shouldn't believe Leonardo. Another time his deep black hair turned a bright orange, an innocent crime, a prank. That was if you ignored the red irritations on his neck caused by an allergic reaction to the chemicals in the bottle.

Other such things kept on happening throughout the weeks and Sam never came to school completely unharmed. However he seemed pleased. "You don't understand." He would tell them. "This I can handle, these small little annoyances. At least I am not getting shoved into lockers again." Elizabeth wouldn't call almost losing your thumb and eye a little annoyance but Sam wouldn't be convinced.

Life continued. School was boring. Homework was frustrating. Sherlock and John kept her out of all the cases, rarely speaking about them. Though I had long since forgiven them for the harsh words but our relationship was a little tampered because of the secrets. This turned out to be rather stupid and ironic. But I am getting ahead of myself.

One day while everyone was getting ready for lunch Sam dropped down onto their chairs grabbing everyone's attention. "You are never going to believe what happened." sighing a little Kya turned towards Elizabeth with a roll of the eyes. "Oh tell us your mighty tales Samuel." It had been known to happen that Sam would get crazy enthusiastic about something that no one gave a shit about.

"Okay, bear with me. It is going to sound crazy." "Just spit it out Sam." "Yesterday night while I was lying in bed I saw something outside of my window." "I hardly think you could see anything last night with that storm." The rest nodded in agreement with Paige. Last night had been horrible, the pitch black had been filled with rain and howling wind. It had been a charged night, literally with thunder and lightning streaking the moonless sky.

"No! It is real! Last night during the storm I looked out of my window to see the storm when I noticed something else. Just when the lighting struck a unicorn reared onto its hind legs." A moment of silence was quickly followed by laughter. "Omg Sam you almost got me believing something had actually happened!" more laughter. "No! I am not joking! It is real!" "Oh please. You can't actually think we are going to believe you!?" Alex demanded, his face a little red of laughing. "I mean this is just ridicules. Even for you!"

"I have proof." Sam cried out as a small and frustrated child. "Show us then." he fished his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it. "I was filming the lighting when it appeared. Here look." He passed the phone over to them and played a clip. It start out as a generic shaky video of the view out of Sam's bedroom. At first the gravelly images was just different shades of black, then they heard a loud crackling followed by a streak of light. This repeated three more times and they were started to get a little bored when they heard video Sam swear. The camera moved jerkily downwards and they saw something white move in his garden.

It took the camera a second to focus but when it did the lighting struck and what they saw was unmistakably a beautiful white Arabian full blood. The only thing that set it apart from its normal cousins was the chrome horn that stuck out of its forehead. It didn't look exactly like the horn you'd expect, no it was thinner and sharper than the big white horn.

Sam sat opposite of them with a smug smile on his face. When the lighting struck again the creature had disappeared. "This can't be real." Ulf started. "You must have photo shopped it or something…" But all six of them knew how useless he was with a computer. They watched the video 4 more times, freezing the frame where the animal was most visible. It looked real. It couldn't be real.

They were all staring at him. "I went downstairs afterwards. There was white fur everywhere, soft as cotton." They leaned in closer to see what Sam was holding in his hand. Strands of pure white fur where tied together into a bunch by a coarse rope. "No way." She whispered before letting her fingers run down the hair. It was as soft as the fur of a bunny. "No way." She repeated. "You've got to be pulling our leg. I mean this is impossible right." Eliana whispered. But it was clear from her soft and slightly yearning voice that she was hoping that it was real. She had always wanted to believe in something more. Not like god but as in something magical.

The thought that mermaids, dragons, unicorns, centaurs, elves and all the rest was completely made up. Surely there had to be some truth to those stories. Elizabeth herself did believe that there was some truth to them, but they weren't the explanation that Eliana wanted to hear. Dragons were what people imagined the dinosaur must have looked like when they found the skeletons. Mermaids where what drunken sailors saw in manatees. Elves where fireflies that people mistook for tiny humans. She believed the world was magical in its own way. In the way that made lighting come from the clouds, created lakes in the deepest oceans and gave animals the ability to change colour. If that wasn't magic she didn't know what was.

But now here she was looking at the image of a unicorn. "It can't be real." Ulf repeated. "It is. And I am going to find it." Sam sounded smug as he spoke but his leg was bouncing in excitement. Tonight. I am going to see if it comes back." "You'll need my help." Eliana said. "Why?" "Well because all the story say that unicorns only come to pure maidens." Sam let out a loud and ridicules laugh but fell silent when he noticed her pointed stare. "Oh. You aren't joking." "No I am not. You know nothing of the mythical. I know everything of it."

"Wow. Okay fine. You can come." "Well the more pure maids the better right so we are coming with." Paige and Kya nodded in agreement. "Well we aren't getting left behind are we Ulf?" Alex slapped the others boy knee before exclaiming. "Sleep over!" A massive smile stretched across Sam's face. "My parents aren't in town. So it won't be a problem." She felt terrible because she knew what her next question would ruin the mood. But Elizabeth still asked the question. "What about Leonardo."

The smile that had just been plastered on Sam's face fell. "Don't worry about it kido." Ulf grabbed his shoulder. "I hardly think he'll try something with us there." His smile returned but it was a little watery. It wasn't like they truly believed that there had been a unicorn in his backyard, no that would have been ridicules. But still there was just a tiny little bit of wonder in their heart from their childhood that clung to the idea of it being real.

They decided to meet up at Sam's house at 6 o clock. They had to go grab their stuff and tell their parents of the plans. Of course Sherlock and John didn't object, they had met Sam before and knew that he wouldn't try anything stupid. They were however quit curious to figure out why all of them decided so suddenly to stay at the kid's house. Still a bit bitter about the secrets she told them that there wasn't a reason. Sherlock saw plainly through her lie and she noticed the little crease in his forehead. It wasn't exactly worry or disappointment more like frustration.

He knew why she was keeping it a secret for them and he didn't like the way it had begun. John wasn't stupid either and noticed their silent exchange with a sigh. "Just don't do anything stupid. And if that Leonardo tries anything I swear to god I'll break his arm in three different places." Chuckling a little at the overprotectiveness of her guardians she packed an overnight bus. Before she left Mrs Hudson pressed a box of homemade cookies into her hands. "Have fun."

Liz had never been to Sam's home before and it was a long way out of the city centre, at least an hour and a half by bus. The further they went the bigger the houses became and the further apart they stood. Massive gardens and fences made out of bushes separated the different homes, they were far enough from the road that the figures in the windows weren't recognisable.

A strange tugging sensation filled her gut, it looked so familiar to her almost like her home back in Belgium. It hurt her a little to see the families in the distance, the clear blue sky with the smell of homemade cooking coming from their chimneys. A sudden wave of home sickness hit her hard and she found herself struggling to keep bitter tears from rolling out of her eyes.

Guilt filled her heart as she realised how long it had been since she had actually really thought about her family. The first month it had been all she could think about, it felt like the stabbing pain would never go away. It had never really gone away, the stabbing pain didn't leave it just went deep inside of her heart. It was a constant present in her life that she had learned to live with. But now that the pleasant memories returned the unpleasant once came with them and the pain resurfaced. It wasn't just her parents, it was her brother and sister too. It was even worse with them, she had known that one day her parents would leave her but not her siblings. They had been younger than her and shouldn't have died yet.

The sorrow was just about to overtake her when the bus stopped. Pushing down the pain she hurried of the bus and started the hike towards the house.

* * *

 **Chapter 76**

* * *

The house was an adorable little thing really. Its walls were painted a light almost white grey with white windowsills. The front garden was potted with pink, red and purple orchid along with a tall apple tree. The entire thing was fenced up by a low white painted fence, it was all rather idyllic. A plum of black smoke came from the chimney on the grey roof.

The fence was unlocked and she pushed into the garden towards the door and pressed the bell. Laughter and yelling came from inside and her pain was pushed back down into the deeper parts of her heart. The door was thrown open and Sam stood there with a massive grin on his face and for an unknown reason there was a streak of chocolate on his chin.

Apparently there was still some sadness visible on her face because he pulled her into a quick reassuring hug. When he pulled away Elizabeth whispered a thank you to him, he just smiled, grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen. "Look who is here!" all the rest was already here and working busily in the kitchen. At the sight of her they all went to hug her and to cover her in flower. "What are you guys doing?" she laughed. "Baking of course!" Paige rolled her eyes. "But what are you making?" "Cupcakes!"

Elizabeth swiped a finger of the unbaked goodness. "What for." "Well if unicorns are going to eat something I am sure that they will also eat cupcakes!" laughter cascaded through the kitchen at Eliana's comment. Though the theory was about as ridiculous as it possibly could be Elizabeth set to work. As they decorated them they discussed what they would do. How would they find this mythical animal?

None of them even suggested to attempt to catch it. They just wanted to find it and see it for themselves. It was funny really how quickly they were pulled into the fantasia of it all. Every time she considered what they were really doing a ridicules smile would find its way onto her face. It was so stupid and yet here they were, putting on their warm clothes and gathering flashlights. Sam said that the animal had run of towards the forest half a mile away from his home.

They were just about to leave when a soft thud drew her attention. Turning towards the stair case she was surprised to see a figure lurking in the shadows. She blinked a couple of times until she recognized the person, instinctively she moved closer to Sam. Leonardo stood there looking at them with a peculiar look in his eyes.

Suddenly she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to stay in the house with him. The kid was a devil and they all knew it. Kya's warm hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging at her. "Come on! We are going hunting." When the other girl didn't budge immediately she followed her gaze and frowned at Leonardo. Her fingers tightened slightly on her arm. "Come, they are going to leave without us." The enthusiasm had died down a little at the sight of the other kid but Liz allowed herself to be lead towards the back door.

The rest was already outside with their flashlights in their hands. "Hurry!" their energy was contagious and made it bubble up in her chest. "Show us the way Sam!" With bright eyes he led them to the small path in his yard where he had spotted the animal. "Here." He told them. "This is where I saw her." "Oh it is a her now?" Paige remarked. "Aren't all unicorns females?" "Not that I have heard of." Sam shrugged his shoulders at Eliana's words, she had been designated the expert so her words were law. "Okay then. This is where I saw it."

There were no hoof prints to be found but if there had been any the rain would have washed them all away. Sam continued to lead the way towards a small gate similar to the one out in front but less well kept. "It jumped over her. It is where I found the fur." They gathered close to study the fence. "Were these here before?" Alex asked pointing towards scratches at the top of the gate. "No…" Sam hesitated a little. "No I am sure of it! I painted it only recently and those are defenitly new."

A wave of excitement coursed through them as the realisation that something _had_ been in the garden hit them. Even if it hadn't been a unicorn something had been in Sam's garden yesterday. "Shall we?" they nodded and the gate creaked a little when Sam pushed open the gate. "Towards the unknown!"

The reality was that there was very little unknown in the calm suburbs but here, now, in the dead of night with a full moon shining through the thick clouds everything seemed possible. There was a small path between two rows of gardens that lead right towards a forest not far away. They set onto the path bundled up close to keep warm. Elizabeth noticed Eliana's hand slip into Alex'. Even though she had known they were a couple of months now and had seen them kiss on several occasion, the small gestured warmed her heart.

"They are adorable aren't they?" Paige nudged her slightly before linking her arm in hers. "I want something like that one day." "Ah you'll find someone like that. I am sure of it." she responded to Paige sigh. "A girl like you? It won't take long before you catch someone's eye." Her laugh was sweet and clear, it startled Ulf, Kya and Sam who had been deep in whispered conversation. "Shush." Liz hissed to her friend. "Why? Are you embarrassed of me?" her pout was mocking her. "Of you never!"

The rest of the walk they walked in silence observing the scenery around them. Both of them lived in the centre of London so this was a rare sight. Peeking through hedges they looked into the windows of family in front of the TV, kids running through the house, people talking in front of a fire place. Turning their gaze upwards they studied the stars that normally became invisible because of the street lights.

While their eyes were fixed on the sky Eliana had been studying the rose bushes around them and the grass cover path beneath them. Suddenly she let out a little cry drawing every ones attention. "What is it?" a bit of worry had crept into Alex's voice at his girlfriend's yell. The blonde crouched onto the ground, her hand hovered over a rock with a dark stain. It was half covered by the roots of an old berk tree so it had been mostly shielded from the rain. The stain was dried up blood.

"It is hurt." she whispered horrified. "We don't know if it was the unicorn." Kya tried to reassure her but her own voice sounded a little uncertain. "It isn't even that much blood, it was probably a scrap." Ulf added with a bit more certainty. "You don't know that!" Eliana retorted. "The rest might have been washed away!"

Alex pulled her of the ground but she was already shaking a little. "It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts." Elizabeth blurted out. "What was that?" Sam asked. "It is something Sherlock says when we try to figure out a case for him, or when we are gossiping about stuff. It basically means you should jump to conclusions but he enjoys sound clever." Eliana stared a little at her and Elizabeth found herself continuing. "Worrying means you might suffer twice, what good does that do? For all we know it is perfectly fine." She nodded a little and straightened her spine. "Okay. Yeah I am good." she sniffed. "Well at least we know we are going the right way." Alex smiled softly at her and nodded in confirmation.

"I though unicorn blood was silver?" Kya asked curiously. "Nah that is just what J.K. Rowling thought would look cool." Eliana answered. "Most of the lore actually says it is actually red like ours." As Eliana continued on the fact that JK often twisted facts slightly to make things seem more mystical they reached the edge of the forest.

It wasn't a wild and overgrown forest that adventurers tracked through in legends but the kind of forest that dog walkers let their dogs run free along with the kids of the neighbourhood. Still in the dark the forest looked a little surreal, the cries of owls and a fox filled the silent night adding to the ominous atmosphere. But they pushed on forward, there was a little discussion whether or not they should stick to the path or if they should just go rough.

They couldn't really get lost in the forest but they didn't really know where they should go looking. So they just headed straight and kept quiet, their flashlights scanning the darkness in the hope of finding any kind of clue. "Do we actually have a plan for finding it?" Paige asked, slight frustration in his tone.

"It will come to us." Eliana's voice was so convincing that they almost believed her. "Yeah. But how?" "I don't know Paige. All the lore says is that young maidens would sit on the forest floor and the unicorns would come to them." Paige pondered this for a second. "So maybe these boys are going to be a problem." Ulf made an offended sound and brought his hand to his chest is shock. "No she is right. That might be it! Maybe we should split up." "Oh no that is the perfect start for any horror movie. We should defenitly not split up." "Are you scared Sam? Of the big bad fluffy unicorn?"

They chuckled a little. "No but maybe the girls should team up and spread out through the forest and the boys could look for the animal by themselves." Elizabeth offered. "Paige and I take one side of the forest, Kya and Eliana could take the other." Sam sighed dramatically. "If I get impaled by a horn I swear to god I'll shove that horn up you ungrateful arse."

They checked their battery life before splitting up. "What do we do once we find a place to settle down?" "Sing? Dance in a circle? Make flower crowns?" "Yeah right." She jostled the other girl lightly. "I think we should probably sit down and wait, I mean that is what Eliana told us to do." "I guess so." they continued to walk in silence a little while longer till they reached a small clearing.

The moon had found its way through the clouds and the little open space gleamed in the silver light. "Here?" Elizabeth nodded in agreement. Both of them took a seat on the moist grass back against back and waited. After ten minutes of silence a faint glow emitted from Paige's side making Elizabeth tense up. Carefully she turned around not wanting to startle the animal in case it had appeared next to Paige. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me?" Elizabeth shoved her friend. "Put your phone away Paige. I am sure that you can manage a little while without your phone."

"Oh come on Liz." "If we are going to do this then we should do it right." "Do you think my phone is going to scare it away?" "Maybe. I don't know alright. We are hunting a god damn unicorn Paige! I don't know how that works." With a light chuckle Paige got up. "Hey? What are you doing?" "I am not comfortable." Liz watched her friend stretch a little before sitting back down onto the ground.

"If we are going to be here all night I might as well get a little comfortable." She had grabbed a blanket from her pack before splaying it out on the ground. She laid down onto the ground and placed her head into Elizabeth's lap.

"Oh yeah great. Leave me without a backrest why don't you." Elizabeth grunted in frustration before dropping down onto her back. Both girls were looking up at the moon in silence when they heard something moving in the forest. Well really Liz had heard it first and had gone completely tense which Paige had noticed because her head was resting on her now tense stomach muscles. "What?" Before Paige continue on talking Elizabeth had wrapped her hand around his mouth.

Then Paige heard it too. Leaves crackling, branches snapping and the winning of a horse. Slowly they moved up in a sitting position and looked around for any sign of the animal but the moonlight didn't penetrate the dense forest around them. Paige reached for her flashlight but Elizabeth grabbed her wrist to stop her. A part of her thought that anything 'new' would scare it away, anything strange or sudden could startle it.

Her grip on the others wrist didn't soften as both of them waited for the animal to come. Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened, she could hear it on the soft forest floor. The familiar clip clop of hooves hitting the ground. It was softer than she was used to, less loud and slightly less familiar than what she used to hear in the stables. When she opened her eyes again, scanning the darkness again she saw something. The sharp intake of a breath next to her proved that Paige had seen it too.

A dash of pure white in the dark night. They moved towards it slowly when a sudden scream startled all three of them. The unicorn took of swiftly as Paige let out a soft gasp. "Alex."

* * *

 **Chapter 77 - John and Sherlock pov**

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The strain on their relationship with Elizabeth had been a growing the last couple of days. He was fully aware that this was mostly his fault but he was convinced that if they sat this out the stress would lessen. It was all a matter of time. So when a new case arrived he didn't even mention it too her. She knew. He knew she knew. She knew he knew she knew. But they both stayed quiet.

John didn't agree with his strategy and as a responds to Sherlock's silence had smacked the man over his head. "You are being stupid Sherlock. You know she'd love to hear about this case! I bet she could even help you with it if you'd just let her." "I thought you said we should keep her away from _all_ cases." "Yes. But I didn't mean you should exclude her from your entire life." "My cases are my life John. You of all people should know that."

So John dropped the conversation still annoyed though. He didn't like that Liz was so closed. When he had met Sam he was eager to learn more about the young man but she didn't seem eager to share anything with him. One day after hanging out with Sam she had been slightly destressed but when he had asked about it she had told him to mind his own business. Sherlock had told him it was something about Sam but it wasn't the same.

This meant when an elderly man arrived at their doorstep next Thursday no one informed Elizabeth. This pissed John of a little because 'Come on Sherlock! Elizabeth knows a lot about this kind of stuff just let her help us!" But Sherlock had stayed stubbornly quiet so they didn't tell her. The fact that she had decided to stay with her friend that night made it a bit easier to keep it a secret.

So when Elizabeth disappeared towards her sleepover, they prepared for their nightly outing. "Bring your weapon John. It might get a bit heated." The doctor shrugged, swinging a little bag over his shoulder as he pocketed his gun. "I bet it will be fine. This can't be an actual challenge for you. I mean you've solved far harder cases than this." I'm not so sure about that John, for all you know there could be something more to this."

Mrs Hudson was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs with her hands on her hips. "Be careful out there tonight. It is rather dark to go walking around with a weapon, you might hurt someone." Sherlock rolled his eyes in slight frustration like a spoiled brat. "We've handled guns before. We won't shoot anyone. Or at least not on accident." John gave the detective a little shove in the ribs but smiled reassuring at the land lady. "Don't worry Mrs Hudson. I'll make sure he behaves."

"Here I gave some of these to Elizabeth as well." John accepted the boxes of cookies that she pressed into his hands before dragging Sherlock into a cab. "Are we going to the morgue first?" "Well of course, they already moved the body." There was a bit of disapproval in his voice. "What did you expect Sherlock? They couldn't just let the body rot in the forest now could they?" "They should have called me earlier."

John knew better than to continue on arguing with the man so he just sat back with a sigh. The detective could be so entitled something, yes he was more intelligent than most people. But if he didn't tone down a little someone was going to lose it and beat him to shreds because of his attitude. The car stopped in front of the familiar façade of the hospital and Sherlock waltzed out of the vehicle, leaving John to pay for the ride.

Sherlock shoved open the door and stalked down the stairs towards the icy morgue. Whenever he got into these kinds of moods he would speed up, to be honest John had to jog a little to keep up with his long strides. He hated feeling inferior to the taller man. When John caught up to Sherlock he was already talking with Molly. The young woman had a slight red blush on her cheeks as Sherlock spoke with her, his entire body language suggested a 'Je m'en fou' attitude, he really didn't understand why she liked him that much.

Surely she understood that he was only using her to get his goal. "Hi Molly." The doctor looked up and shook herself free from her imagination. "Hiya John. How can I help you guys today?" "We need to see the body of a." he reached for his notebook for the name but apparently Sherlock had no problem remembering the name of the stranger. "John Straker. He died yesterday." "Oh yes, that poor fellow, he is right down here."

The way she talked about the dead bodies in the slots unnerved him a tiny bit, it sounded more as if she spoke about shoes. "There we go." with a metallic clang the hospital bed was pulled out of the slot and a sheet cover figure appeared. "If you need some help, I performed the autopsy so I know everything about his body." "I think I'll be able to do this on my own. A coffee would be nice though."

With a little wave of his hand he dismissed the woman. "Thanks Molly. We will be fine." He smiled kindly at her before turning back towards the dead figure. Sherlock threw back the sheet and started to work. Meanwhile John started to look into the notes that Molly had scribbled down during the autopsy. "He was killed by a blunt hit to the back of his head." Sherlock ignored the doctors mumbling as he continued searching the body carefully.

"The crime scene pictures show a knife though, it seems to be bloody. They are still running tests on the blood but there seems to be a pretty deep cut in the man's hip." Sherlock hummed in agreement as he too had just found the knife wound. "Apparently they found a tie and jacket there as well. Though seeing as the man was wearing a jacket at the time I don't think it is his." Sherlock stayed quiet for a couple of minutes before looking up with a smile. "I think I have solved it." "What already?!" "Yes. I just need to have a look at his clothes first." He gestured at the naked form on the slab. There were a couple of small lockers that had number collating with the cold chambers the bodies were stored in. The one containing Straker's belongings had been left unlocked for them so John pulled out the plastic bags. "Here you go." the other man didn't take the clothes instead he just started upstairs gesturing for John to follow him.

He led them towards the lab where he finally took over the plastic bag. When he positioned himself behind a microscope the doctor let out a little sigh. "I'll get us a coffee seeing as it doesn't seem as if Molly is going to come back." "Black, two." "Yeah I know don't worry." He waved the detective man away and headed towards the coffee machine. A part of him wanted to text Liz to make sure everything was alright but he didn't have the heart for it. He didn't really think he deserved to check on her at that moment.

So he just grabbed himself a coffee with a lot of milk without any sugar and a mug for Sherlock with no milk and two cubs of sugar. For a second he grimaced at the cups, the memory of drug prickling at his mind for a second. After that whole affair a tiny bit of trust had been lost between them, he didn't think Sherlock noticed but he never allowed him to cook or to get him something to drink.

When he got back Sherlock was still hunched over though his eyes weren't focused on the small eyepiece, he was just staring at nothing this probably meant that he was in his mind palace running over the details. So he just placed the cup next to him and took a seat for himself. It turned out that he didn't have to wait for long. After a couple of minutes Sherlock shook his head slightly and grabbed the cup next to him. "Come on." "Aren't you going to tell me what you figured out?"

A tiny smile crept on his face that meant he felt pretty proud of his quick deductions. "It isn't all that hard really. Pretty obviously if you ask me." John made a slightly annoyed sound in the back of his throat. "Well as the doctors said before he had been killed by a blow to his head. This wasn't during a struggle between two men though, no our dear friend John Straker was killed by a kick of a horse."

"Oh so he was the one who took him?" "Yes." "So what about the knife wound?" "He probably hit himself during the struggle. It must have slipped. However I can't explain the jacket until I know whose they are." "So all that is left is to find Blaze." "Exactly." The entire drive back Sherlock was on his phones for some mysterious reason he didn't feel like sharing. So John just watched the scenery change out of the window from city to suburban to almost full forest. Finally they drove up on a dusty driveway towards the large and modern looking stable.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you liked this chapter of my story! Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12 - Time for a hunt

**Chapter 78**

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"Mr Holmes thank you for coming. We are happy that you would come here to help us." A rather small and plump man came out of the front door after they rang the bell. "And you must be Dr Watson. It is a pleasure to meet you!" he grasped my hand into his and shook it. John couldn't help a smile from spreading onto his face at the man' genuine pleasure at seeing them. Sherlock looked a little frustrated and a tiny bit appalled at the smiling figure in front of him. "The pleasure is all ours. Mr Simpson I assume?" the smaller man nodded enthusiastically. "So tell us how we can help you."

"Yes, yes. Please come this way, I'll show you where we put Blaze between his trainings. We think this is where he was kidnapped from." They followed him between the paddocks, a couple of riders waved at them and some even recognized Sherlock as they walked by. As they approached a large building a couple of dogs started to circle their feet's curiously sniffing at their boots. Mr Simpson shoed them of dismissively. "Don't mind them. They are our guard dogs but as long as you don't go wandering over the property alone at night they are harmless."

"This is a pretty big place you have here." The man's smile grew a couple of inches, which had seen impossible but he managed it, at John's remark. "Yes we are quite popular so a lot of jockeys tend to stable there horses here. Quite a few beauty pageant contesters and high jumpers in these stables as well. All of them are top quality, no slackers in my stables."

The pride was obvious in his voice as he pushed open a large door, letting them into a long corridor. On every side of the hallway there were stables with horses of every breed and colour, the only thing they had in common was the sleek and muscled forms. All of them were pure breed race horses.

At the end of the stables there was one empty one, they stopped in front of it. A brown head poked through the opening of the stable next door and a horse nudged Sherlock's shoulder. He reacted automatically, placing his hand on the animal's forehead stroking the fine hairs. It nickered happily pressing his nose harder against the palm of his hand. "Oh I see you met Flora." The man patted the horse's long neck. "Fine horse. Can run like the wind."

John leaned over Sherlock shoulder to look at the horse. Though it head was a dark chestnut brown but the hairs on his shoulder slowly speckled into a bright white, his tail was still the same colour of his mane even though its hind was white. Amazement must have shown on his face and the man explained. "Yes, I know she is a beauty. Pure bred Appaloosa. She is only 5 so her spirit is still very active." His eyes suddenly became very sad as he stroked its long and elegant neck. "Everything alright sir?" "Yes, I am sorry. This is very unprofessional indeed."

He tugged his jacket a little straighter. "It is just that Flora is Rebecca's horse you know. We had her moved next to Blaze because Straker had asked. They were engaged Rebecca en John. He actually bought Flora for her, he even named the animal after her." A frown expressed John's confusion. "Her last name Is Bloom which means flower in Dutch. I think her grandparents were from the Netherlands actually."

Sherlock's fingers played with the animal's hairs making it whinny a little. Mr Simpson quickly whipped a none existing tear from his eyes before changing the subject. "Do you have any experience with horses?" To John surprise the detective nodded pensively. "But it has been a while since I have ridden." "Maybe you'll get the chance with one of our horse one day." He smacked his hand on the detectives shoulder before turning to the empty stall. "But let us first focus on Blaze." Sherlock whipped his hands clean on his pants and followed the man to the stall.

"What do you expect me to do now?" "I was hoping you might be able to do your deducing thing. See something the police overlooked. We don't have a lot of time left." Mr Simpson replied, his cheeks reddening slightly. "The police has been all over this place, I highly doubt I'll be able to find anything after they rampaged it." Disappointment started to blossom on his face. John threw Sherlock a pointed look which made him role his eyes but also step into the stall. "He'll see what he can find." "Oh thank you so much." Sherlock interrupted him before he continued his praise. "Meanwhile would you mind filling us in on a couple of details?"

"Of course. Of course. What would you like to know Mr Holmes?" "First and for most whose jacket and tie was it that they found at the crime scene." The stables owner blinked confused. "Of one of the stable boys. But I told the police this." "I didn't read the rapport. Wording can form conclusions where there shouldn't be any. I rather hear it from the primary source."

"Al right then." Mr Simpson sat down with a huff on one of the little chairs that were spread across the hall. "Could you tell us everything that happened?" this time he actually did make an indignant sound. "Everything? I thought detective Lestrade already told you about the case. I mean he told me you were completely informed." Sherlock sighed and looked up from the lock he had just been examining. "Indulge me."

When he looked over at me I just shrugged to show him I knew how ridiculous Sherlock could be sometimes. "Alright. Well as you must know Silver Blaze was a national champion in the races. We were training him for tomorrow's race down at Dartmoor and I must tell you he was doing amazingly. You see John Straker was his trainer and a close friend of mine. I have known him for 6 years and every horse he has trained has gotten a taste of fame. Still Blaze was exceptional. So we took necessary percussions, it wouldn't be the first time that a horse got mysteriously injured in a stall in the dark." "So you had security."

"Yes for the last couple of days a stable boy has been staying in front of Blaze's stall so no one would could get in or out without waking them. Last night however John insisted on taking the duty. He said that he wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing for certain that Blaze was in perfect safety. I think this had something to do with the fact that only a night before a stranger had been seen lurking on the premises at night. The stable boy on duty, I think it was Timmy, saw him and managed to scare him of."

"Do you have any idea who it was?" "No the police interrogated poor Timmy in hopes to figure out who it was but it had been dark and the kid had been tired. He had no clue who it was." "Alright continue." "Oh, yes. The jacket and tie they found next to poor Straker was of Timmy. He says he left it there in the morning rush. A couple of riders can confirm seeing it." "What was a stable boy doing with a tie?" "He had an interview that day, for a job in London I think, and he came straight down from there. Didn't go home to put his fancy clothes away."

"So Straker stayed with Blaze during the night." "Exactly. The next morning when Becky and James went to give the horses their first meal of the day they found him just outside of the back door. He was a goner and Blaze was nowhere to be seen. They immediately called the police but no one has been able to track our beloved Blaze."

Sherlock straightened and whipped a bit of hay off of his pants. "Well as I am sure Lestrade has informed you that Straker was the one took Blaze." Simpson's face went a little pale. "He said that was he theory at the moment but I am having a hard time believing it is true." "Well it must be, there is no other explanation that fit the facts."

With a sudden burst of energy he pushed himself of his chair. "There must be. Straker has been a loyal to us for years. Someone else must have broken into the stable, there must have been a struggle. It would explain all of the facts." "Are you absolutely certain that no one familiar to the stables could have entered the property last night? No one had the keys to this building expect for you and Straker?" the man thought for a moment. "No I am sure. We round up all of the keys at the end of the day to make sure none of them get lost or stolen. They were in my room all night." "And the stables were locked." "Yes." "So maybe someone broke into the stables but all of the locks were undamaged. So maybe someone knocked on the door and Straker had let them in." Mr Simpson seemed to like that idea as he nodded his head fervently but it was quite clear at the tone of Sherlock's voice that he didn't much care for that.

"However we can excluded that on account of the dogs." "The dogs?" both Simpson and John looked confused at the statement. "But the dogs didn't make a sound last night." "Exactly. You said that the dogs were harmless as long as we didn't go walking around alone at night. If someone had gone onto the property that night the dogs would have chased them." "But it could have been someone they knew." John rejected thinking things threw. "If it was someone the dogs and Straker knew they would have gotten into the stable easily."

A grin plastered on Sherlock's face that meant that he was both pleased with his inquiry and pleased with the fact that he was still a couple of steps before him. "Yes. You've got a good point there. But you are forgetting the figure that the stable boy had seen walking around last night." "What about him?" "The dogs didn't make a sound. So it must have been someone they knew, someone they trusted." "You think it was Straker." John concluded. "But that could have been anyone who works at the stables! It doesn't mean it was Straker!" Simpson replied.

"Plus why would Straker would try to take Blaze out of his stall? What was he doing? It made no sense. There is no way that Straker would do something like this." His mind was made up, he wasn't going to change it. But Sherlock sighed a deep sigh.

"Listen. I checked the races before we came here. Blaze would have won easily, no question about it. The one who was going to be second was called Marry and is a beautiful Arabic mare. No one had ever heard of her before but suddenly she came into the competition and has made it to the finals. Never before had anyone seen such progress in a horse since Blaze. People actually compared the two horses a lot." Simpson nodded his head in agreement. "Yes. I know we made Straker train Blaze harder though he insisted he didn't need it."

Sherlock turned his hard eyes towards the man. "Did he?" "Did he what?" "Did John Straker train Silver Blaze harder." the man's cheeks burned a little. "No. Not really." "So what did you do?" he turned his eyes away from Sherlock and stared at the ground. "I had a couple of other riders train him when Straker was out. Not a lot but just a bit. The odds weren't good enough, I needed to be sure that Blaze would win."

"Did Straker find out?" Simpson looked a little ashamed at that moment. "Yes… We actually got into a fight over it. He was riding Blaze after a couple of days of not really pushing him and noticed something different. He confronted me over Blaze's progress so I confessed. I thought he would have been pleased, he had been so busy the last couple of days and hadn't been able to ride Blaze as much." "He wasn't happy though. He got pissed off didn't he?" Simpson nodded a little. "He was so angry. He kept on saying that I had betrayed his trust and that I should have let him train Blaze the way he did. He lost full controle but apologised a couple of hours later. He said it had something to do with stress."

Silence fell for a second, only the sound of hooves on hay and animals breathing filled the air. Finally Simpson spoke again. "But that doesn't mean anything. He loved Blaze." Sherlock nodded in agreement. "Yes. That alone means that nothing. But did you tell him that someone would be staying with Blaze during the nights?" "Yes of course why wouldn't I." he stared full with confidence. "Wait, no I didn't. I was going to tell him after the training but we got into that fight before I could." Sherlock smiled triumphantly.

* * *

 **Chapter 79**

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Though it hadn't seemed to convince Mr Simpson of Straker's betrayal but Sherlock had made up his mind. "Let me find your horse. Its location will probably fill in the gaps." With a slightly grudge the stable manager agreed. "So don't take Blaze from the list. He'll be there." "But what if he is injured?" "I highly doubt that anyone will mind you taking him out of the race if he is injured."

Before the owner could protest Sherlock had whipped on his jacket and walked straight out of the door. John smiled kindly at the flustered gentleman before hurrying after his friend. The sun had already started to set so the doctor grabbed his phone and switched on the flash light function.

The beam hit the detectives face and illuminated his grin. "Exited much? I thought this was a straight forward case." "It is. But I needed some outside time and that is exactly what I've gotten. The thrill of the chase is still there." He ruffled his hair and looked upwards at the night sky. "There are still a couple of loose factors that could prove me wrong." John couldn't help but chuckle at Sherlock's spring attitude. It was a rare thing for him to be so youthful and buoyant.

"The game is on." It wasn't the same when he said it, not as powerful and true but it had an amazing effect on his partner. His grin grew a couple of inches and something flashed in his eyes, it might have been passion. "Indeed John. The game is on!"

They followed a path worn by hooves of hundreds of horses through the fields. "How do you know where we have to go?" It seemed to John that Sherlock was following a completely random path throughout the empty paddocks. There was the possibility that there was some clue that he couldn't see. "I know the end destination and we are following the most probable path."

"So where are we going?" "A stable not so far from here. It is the most likely candidate." "I thought they had already checked all of the nearby stables for Blaze. They couldn't find him anywhere." "It is because they are stupid." John could only snort at the reaction. He should have expected it but still his bluntness amused him.

They walked a couple of minutes in silence as they gazed up at the sky. Sherlock started to whistle softly. John couldn't place the tune though he was sure he had heard it before. It frustrated him immensely and he was sure that Sherlock knew this as his whistling got louder. The longer he whistled the more frustrating it become though at the same time a strange relaxing feeling started to work itself through his system.

After a couple of minutes he was pretty sure that his heart rate had gone down significally and his breathing had calmed down. It took them only a little while to get at a forest edge. Well they called it a forest but it really wasn't all that big or forestry. To be honest John was pretty sure that this entire thing was planted by people and very little natural forestry had grown there by itself.

As Sherlock pushed open the little gate he stopped the whistling. "What was that song?" "Doesn't have a name yet." "It is good. You should try and play it on your violin." A private smile pulled at his lips. "Did it calm you?" Now Sherlock made a lot of strange comments but John wasn't sure what to think of this one. "Yes… How did you know?"

"Do you know what Darwin said about music?" when the doctor shook his head he continued. He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at." Though Sherlock didn't seem to feel the need to give more explanation John still didn't understand. "So?" "Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it." the taller man sighed lazily. "There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was in its childhood." "That is a rather broad idea."

Sherlock folded his hands behind his head as he stepped up the pace. "One's ideas must be as broad as nature if they are to interpret nature." "Feeling pretty proud are we?" "I don't do pride John." This actually made John laugh out loud. "Oh please, that has to be the biggest lie you have ever told."

"Quiet." If Sherlock's entire frame hadn't stiffened as he spoke John would have made a remark about him not being able to handle constructive criticism. But he had frozen mid stride, one of his hands was held up to stop John from moving any more. The other hand rested on his gun where it rested underneath his jacket and the waistband of his pants.

John couldn't hear anything expect his own breathing and beating heart, the occasional cry of a night bird and the rustling of leaves. His eyes scanned the trees around them trying to see something that might have set off Sherlock's reflexes. A slow movement form the other man drew his attention to his back. Sherlock went down onto his knees placing his free hand on the damp undergrowth. John couldn't see what the man was looking at but he recognized the movements of panther in the way his back arched.

His own hand found the familiar cold of his gun as he waited for a signal. Sherlock cocked his head in a peculiar way and this time John could actually hear what had eluded him before. A long and high-pitched whine coming from a couple meters away from them. Apparently this didn't alarm his crouching friend as his muscles visibly relaxed. He went from dangerous predator to a house cat in a breath.

He stayed down on his knees for a couple more seconds, dropping his hand from his gun and using it to rub through his hair. He stayed on all fours as he moved towards the bushes but started to make soft little sounds as he went closer. The sounds from the bush became more frantic and John was pretty sure there was some kind of animal hidden there. He tried to understand what Sherlock was saying but it was too soft. It sounded suspiciously like singing.

Finally Sherlock pushed the branches out of the way and reached out. Curious John moved closer to see what the man was holding in his arms. Continuing his soft murmuring and humming he pushed himself back onto his feet and turned to face John. He was clutching a tiny little kitten. The animal was about as small as his two hands together, it was a dark orange with black strips covering the fur. It meowed softly at John.

It took John a couple of minutes to progress what he was seeing, Sherlock had softened up when he had moved in with John. It had gotten even better when he had met Elizabeth. Never before had anyone seen Sherlock this soft and considered. However still after all of that he hadn't suspected to see him cuddling a kitten any time soon. "I think it hurt its leg." For the so many time that day he let out a loud laugh.

The animal startled and hid deeper into the crook of his elbow. "John. Careful it is scared." "You aren't serious are you?" "Of course I am." "This is so unlike you. A couple of years ago you would have told me to put it out of its misery." For a second his face became horrified but it quickly changed to agreement. "Well you aren't lying. But I think we can both agree that I have changed a lot these couple of years." "For the better if you ask me." he moved closer to pet the kitten in his grasp. "Let me see it. Maybe I can see what is wrong." The detective hesitated before carefully unhooking the tiny claws out of his jacket and handing the feline to the doctor.

John ran his finger carefully over its spine and tail. It was pretty easy to see that its right hind leg was twisted in an unnatural way. "I am not sure if I can set it seeing as I am not a vet." "Very well, we will take it with us to the stables maybe someone there can help." Sherlock took the cat back and carefully placed it in one of his big jacket pockets. It let out a frustrated little hiss but stayed still when Sherlock carefully petted its nose.

"Let's continue." The entire situation felt a little weird. They were chasing an elusive race horse through a fake forest with a little kitten in Sherlock coat. It was pretty clear the way Sherlock was walking was in an attempt not to move his jacket too much. He didn't want to upset the hurt animal.

"What did you think it was?" "Excuse me?" "What did you think the sound was that made you react like that?" "I wasn't sure. I couldn't place the sound but it didn't sound good. It is always better to be a little careful when it come to the unknown. In John's opinion Sherlock's reaction hadn't really been all that careful but more animalistic. But it was clear that Sherlock didn't want to talk about it anymore.

So they continued the rest of the walk mostly in silence. From time to time the cat in Sherlock's coat would meow and he would answer with a strange little sound. Sherlock continued to search around the path with his foliage as he tried to find the wandering horse. It was starting to get really late and he was starting to get a bit tired. His leg was healed but that didn't mean that he felt like walking for hours on end. "So Sherlock. Are we getting close?" "Yes John. We are nearly at the other side of the forest."

So he merely huffed a bit but stopped complaining. They were just about to reach a clearing when Sherlock grabbed his arm. He gestured his chin towards three men standing in the clearing. They were standing with their back towards them and were talking in low voices. Sherlock leaned in closer to John till he could whisper right into his ear. "They might have something to do with the kidnapping of Blaze."

As if it knew what was going on the kitten stayed quiet. "Grab your gun just to be safe." Even with his lips as close to John's ears he had some trouble to understand what was being said. It became a lot clearer when Sherlock himself took out his gun. "Ready?" John nodded as he checked his own handgun. The man squeezed his arm softly, grinned and leaped out of their hiding place. Sherlock wrapped his arm around the stranger's neck pulling him into his taller frame and pressed his gun into his side.

It might have been a little overkill to use the gun but he honestly didn't want any trouble. At the exact same time that Sherlock attacked the man he yelled out in absolute horror. Though he had looked like a grown man from behind his voice proved that he wasn't.

* * *

 **Chapter 80**

* * *

He had been doing absolutely nothing when suddenly out of nowhere a man leaped up behind him and grabbed him. Panic surged through him and he tried to pull away from him while letting out a surprised scream. He didn't really want to know what the object pressing in his side was though he feared that it was a gun.

Both Ulf and Sam turned around immediately at the sudden sound. For a second no one spoke and Alex was pretty sure this was how he was going to die when Ulf let out a little laugh. He was having a pretty hard time understanding what was so funny about this entire experience when his attacker too let out a little chuckle and released the pressure from around his neck.

When Alex was completely released he stumbled away from his assailant and towards his friends. "What on earth?" The man who had just grabbed him was slightly shorter than him and was wearing a long dark coat, he held his gun loosely next to his side and smiled lazily. Another person stepped out of the bushes with a friendly smile. "Hello Alex, Sam, Ulf." He nodded at the three boys as he brushed the dirt of his legs. "I didn't know you guys were in these woods."

Realization hit him and made him feel like a complete idiot for yelling. The two men standing in front of them where Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. He smiled a bit rueful. "We'll we didn't know you were here either." Ulf stepped forward and shook Sherlock's hand with a broad grin. "What are you two doing here so late?" Just as he started to answer they heard a worried yell come from the woods a bit further from them.

"Alex! Ulf! Sam! Are you guys okay?!" the boys and the two men turned towards the sound. Sherlock frowned at the voice. "Is that Elizabeth?" Of course that was the moment she broke through the bushes. Paige was right on her heals and both of their cheeks were flushed red by the time they got within arm's reach. "We heard you scream." Paige panted. "Did something happen?"

She hadn't seen the two men standing only a little further away but Elizabeth had. Her frame had gotten a little harder when she noticed Sherlock's gun. "What are you two doing her?" when she asked the question it had a lot more bite. "We were looking for a missing race horse when we ran into them." John explained. "We mistook them for possible kidnappers."

This made the two girls pause for a minute. "You mistook these three for kidnappers? How in the world. Is that even possible? I thought you were good at these kinds of things." Sherlock actually flinched at that remark. "It was dark, I was preoccupied." Sherlock reached for his pocket when another couple of faces broke through the dense brush around them. It seemed that Eliana and Kya had also been running as they too were panting terribly. Without spearing a second Eliana threw her arms around Alex and pulled him into a hug. "I thought something had happened to you! You screamed!"

Alex hugged his girlfriend back and kissed the top of her messy blond hair. "No I am alright. Just a little misunderstanding." He pulled himself free from the embrace to loosely gesture at the two adults, but he kept his arm around her waist. "Oh! Hi!" Sherlock nodded curtly at her. "Well, should we be expecting anyone else coming to join us or are we complete now?"

"I don't think there is anyone else here tonight." Sam replied. "But I mean I didn't know you guys were here so what do I know." The silence that formed didn't stay long before a soft meow broke it. "Is that a cat?" Kya was correct, there was in fact a cat in the area. However no one expected Sherlock to pull a kitten out of his coat. A collective squeal of joy spread around their circle as the tiny animal purred in Sherlock's hand.

"Where did you find it?" Ulf's voice had gone up a couple of octaves as he rushed forward. "Somewhere in the bushes a couple of minutes later. Careful it hurt its leg." They all crowed around his cupped hands to pet the little animal. "Aw! He is so cute! Are you guys going to keep it?!" Sherlock grinned. "If Mrs Hudson is kind enough I think so."

"Hey!" John smacked him against his arm, not hard enough to jostle the kitten. "Maybe we should disguise getting an animal before agreeing to it!" "Are you going to tell us that we can't keep the kitten?" Elizabeth smiled a little at the accessory tone, she even moved towards Sherlock to take his side, in the literal sense of the word.

"Look at its cute little paws! At the tiny button nose! Look at the sparkling eyes! How can you say no to that Dr John Watson?!" John sighed loudly. "Fine, we will take him with us. But when we get home we are going to see what we are going to do with it." "Not it." John raised an eyebrow in fake amusement. "Zouyu. That is its name." "What kind of name is that?" but Paige had smiled brightly and nodded her head in agreement. "Great name! It is a Chinese legendary animal! Though normally it takes the form as a badass vegetarian black and white tiger."

"Doesn't really look like a tiger though." "Still cute though!" Eliana countered Sam with a smile. The rest of them nodded in agreement. "Okay so. Now that we have the cat out of the way. Maybe you seven can tell us what you are doing wandering through these woods so late at night. "Well I think we are actually doing the same thing." Alex prompted. "Only you guys have a very different prospective on it." he nudged Sam. "Come on big boy. Tell them what we are doing." "Why me." "Because you are the reason we are doing it!"

Ulf didn't seem to care about the bickering taking place so he cut in. "We were planning to find the unicorn wandering around these woods. You wouldn't have seen it prancing around by any chance?" Both of the two adults blinked in surprise at the children. "You got to be kid…" John started but Sherlock cut of his sentence with a bark of laughter, accidently scaring the kitten in his palm. He petted it back a couple of times as an apology.

"No John, he is being completely honest. They are in fact looking for a unicorn. Or so they think." "Sam's got proof." Eliana's voice came out a bit more protective then she had meant to but they all knew how much this meant to her. Is Sherlock realised it he didn't pay attention to it. "Sorry to burst your bubble but you are looking for a race horse named Blaze. It was stolen by his trainer yesterday but got spoked by the storm. He accidently kicked his trainer and killed him."

A wave of shock ran through the group. "So the horse is a murder suspect…" "No not really. He defenitly killed that man. There is no doubt about it. We just have to find him so we can bring him back to the stables." "Oh Elizabeth and I saw him only a couple of minutes ago. He was just in front of us when Alex screamed and scared it away." "Hey!" Alex responded in frustration. "I am sorry I screamed okay but someone had just grabbed me and pressed a gun into my side! I'd like to see you not cry out!"

No one but Sherlock noticed Elizabeth flinch a little, the memory of Mycroft kidnapping her resurfacing again. Careful not to draw attention to them he moved closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Without thinking about it she leaned into him and allowed the small comfort to keep her out of that dark place in her heart. "If Blaze is still out here my theory is wrong. Which is going to make this a lot harder than I thought it was going to be."

"What was your theory by the way?" "I figured he had already been found because this area is rather highly populated. If the records are correct Straker was in a lot of debt with someone called 'Blue Blood'. Now obviously this is a nickname but it isn't that hard to figure out who it is. You see Straker was engaged to a young lady Rebecca Bloom. Her father is Indigo Bloom. Indigo is a different word for the colour blue and Bloom has the same to letter as Blood."

"So all of this was a coincidence?" Sam asked rather naively. "I highly doubt it. Don't forget that Straker was still trying to smuggle Blaze from his stale while holding a knife. Surely he was up to something, maybe he wasn't going to deliver the horse to Mr Bloom but to ignore the horse." The theory seemed plausible enough. "So no unicorn?" Eliana didn't even try to hide her disappointment. "No I am afraid not dear." John comforted her. "But we still have to find Blaze, if what you say is true he is probably still out here somewhere."

"Normally a trained horse will always try to go back to its stall." Elizabeth pointed out. "So it is probably lost and trying to find home. I doubt he'll run far." "There are streets all around this forest." Sam piped in. "If no one has reported a random horse running around it is probably because it is staying inside of the forest." "Why would it do that?" Sam could only shrug at Alex' question. "No clue. Just a theory."

"Okay, if it is still in the forest we need to herd it back to the stalls, it might be the easiest way." Sherlock started. "We are almost at the far edge of the forest. We should form a line and attempt to scare it right direction, the way they do when they hunt. We are with 8 people so it should be possible." "I don't know Sherlock it seems like a pretty uncertain plan." "I know John but we are dealing with an animal not a human. I cannot follow its line of thought therefor I cannot find it the normal way. Plus I believe this horse will be worn out, tired and on high alert. It won't take a lot to spoke him."

So they did what they were told. All 8 of them went to the far edge of the forest and formed a long line, they couldn't see each other all that well but they were close enough to hear each other. When Sherlock started to yell everybody else quickly joined them. Elizabeth clapped her hands stomped her feet and sang The Phoenix at the top of her lungs. Slowly they moved forward, waking up every animal in the forest and scaring the bejesus out of them. It took them an hour to reach the other side of the forest. They had made sure to softly start walking inwards so the animal wouldn't just run any direction but straight out of the forest.

They met up at the beginning of the path where Sherlock pointed out hoof shaped marks in the ground. So unless there was another horse out there, Blaze was running on the narrow path towards the paddock. Still there were a lot of turns where it could run the wrong direction so they quickly followed it. The trail lead them straight by Sam's home and into the fields owned by the stables.

When they finally reached set stables the dogs immediately came running at them, barking and snapping at their feet. So they had to stay at the other side of the fence as they scanned the area in front of them. It only took Sherlock a couple of seconds to spot the horse standing in front of the stable doors. Blaze reared up on his back legs and let out a loud whinny. All of the noise woke up one of the stable boys. As the Blaze was carefully led inside the group made their way to the front gate of the stables and pressed the doorbell.

Mr Simpson came running out of the main building in his satin pyjama to open the door. "Mr. Holmes, Dr Watson, I see you have brought friends. Tell me do you come with good news." Everyone but Sherlock was panting and out of breath from running after the horse and away of the dogs. "Yes Mr Simpson. We came to bring Blaze home." "But where is he?" The man's eyes searched frantically in the night behind them. "One of your stable boys has just put him in his stable I believe." The man let out a delighted squeal and turned his back on them. He hurried towards the open stable doors, the others following him quietly. True to his words Blaze was in his stall with an extremely surprised stable boy. "Mr Simpson sir!" the kid yelled out when he recognized his boss. "It is Blaze sir, he is back."

"Thank you very much Sam." He clapped him on the shoulder as if to dismiss him. "This gentleman just told me so." It was the first time that any of the 8 had actually seen the horse up close. Even though it was clearly tired it was magnificent. In perfect shape, its long neck bend to drink from his bowl, his ears upturn to attention. The muscles in its chest moved with its movements, his long and elegant legs were covered in dirt but none the less impressive. "So this is the famous Silver Blaze." Sherlock commented as he checked out the horse. "I must say I am not disappointed. Will you make him run in the races tomorrow?"

Mr Simpsons face reflected Elizabeth's horror at the question. "Of course not! Blaze has been running out there for 2 days Mr Holmes. It would be inhuman to make him run in the races. Who knows what kind of trauma's it might have suffered! No, no, no. He will get his rest. I'll let the jury know." "Good. Well then I think we can no longer be of assistance here. Goodbye Mr Simpson." With that he was marching out of the stables. Quickly saying goodbye at the stable master the kids and John hurried after Sherlock.

It was 4 in the morning and all 8 of them were tired out. "Mr Holmes, Dr Watson?" "Yes Sam what is it?" "It is quite late and I highly doubt you will find a cab at this time of night. My home is just around the corner and I am sure my parents won't mind if you'd like to stay for the night." "That is very kind of you to offer Sam." John smiled kindly and Sherlock nodded in agreement. "Lead the way Sammy boy." 30 minutes later all 8 of them were sprawled out on air mattresses and sofa's snoring loudly.

* * *

 **A/N:** This turned out a little different than I expected. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be. Still I hope you liked it!


	13. Chapter 13 - The trial

**Chapter 81**

After the entire unicorn incident both Sherlock and John agreed that maybe they shouldn't completely kick Elizabeth away from the cases. Though they still weren't going to give her full disclosure or allow her anywhere near crime scenes but it meant that conversations weren't as stifled and John didn't kick Sherlock underneath the table whenever he started on about cases. Elizabeth often helped John with his research when he was done with schoolwork.

Slowly Sherlock started to gain more and more publicity. Often both of her guardians would come home with gifts they didn't want and praises that frustrated him. Sherlock didn't mind that people were calling him names on the internet and making up conspiracy theories about him. Elizabeth and John did. John was terrified that something would go bad and that his reputation would drag him down. Elizabeth on the other hand didn't like the attention she was getting in school.

Before she had been the strange girl who had been kidnapped and tortured who lost her parents and was adopted by a pair of not gay couple of men. Now she was the daughter of the incentive, crazy detective and his little blogger boyfriend. She had stop trying to convince them that they were in fact straight and that Sherlock did have emotions but it was all in vain.

Some kids tried to get Sherlock of John's phone number or autograph or other inappropriate things. Others weren't a big fan of Sherlock's cause, they hated him and harassed her to get to Sherlock. She managed to hide it pretty well from the two men because they spend most of their days out and about saving people and hunting things.

Ironically it was John who noticed it first. He had seen a lot of crude comments on his blog and started to wonder about other media. That is when he checked Elizabeth's Instagram account and found saw all of the comments on her pictures. Almost none of them were about her and most were about him and Sherlock. He had approached her while Sherlock was out at a crime scene, he didn't want her to feel attacked. "Liz?" "Yeah! Come in! It isn't like I am studying biology or anything important!" he grinned at her frustrated but slightly amused tone and pushed her door.

"Sorry about it bothering you during your studies of the human reproduction system but I need to talk to you about something." frowning she turned to him. "What is wrong?" "So I noticed some hateful comments on my blog and stuff like that." "Yeah I noticed." "Then I checked a couple of other sites and noticed that you are getting quite a few comments well."

Her cheeks flushed a little and she avoided his gaze. "Really? I hadn't noticed." "I am serious Lizzy. Are you okay? I didn't think you were getting involved in these kinds of things? Are people saying this things to you?" Elizabeth sighed loudly. "Of course John. Everyone related to celebrities gets this kind of treatment. So yeah, I do get these comments in real life John."

"What do you mean celebrities?" "Don't be daft. Sherlock and you are celebrity! You guys are all over the newspaper. You shouldn't be surprised that you are getting some backlash!" "I just didn't think you would get these kinds of things." "It isn't your fault John. Plus I am used to it, I can handle it."

"No Elizabeth you shouldn't have to deal with these kinds of things. I'll talk to Sherlock about it." "Oh god don't! Don't make a thing about it!" "I'll just tell him to take it down a notch, he doesn't have to take all high profile cases. Maybe if he takes a couple of smaller cases for a couple of days everything will calm down." "As long as you don't neglect any important cases."

"Don't worry about a thing Liz. Just make sure you get good grades and we will do the rest." "Well in that case get out of my room and let me study!" She shoved his chest till he left the room.

Sherlock came home an hour after Elizabeth had gone to bed. He made sure not to make any noise as he walked passed her room, pausing for a second to make sure she was in fact asleep. When he was sure she was fast asleep he continued into the living room. The detective had to admit that he was surprised that John was still there, sitting at his computer.

"Hello John. Still up?" "Yeah. How did the case go?" "Good, I think I'll have it solved by tomorrow. Just need to get a goat first." "Naturally." Sherlock squinted suspiciously. "Sarcasm?" "No shit Sherlock." With a little chuckle Sherlock headed to his room. "Wait Sherlock! We need to talk for a second."

"Al right…" he returned and sat down next to the blogger on the sofa. "What is wrong?" "We need to keep you out of the newspapers for a while Sherlock." this only seemed to confuse the detective more." "Why?" John simply shoved his computer on his lap. "Read a couple." John watched him scroll through the many comments left underneath his latest story. "I don't understand the problem? Does it bother you that some people don't agree with me?"

"No. Well yes that too." "But why? It doesn't bother me, so why would you?" "Because you are my friend and I care about you." Sherlock was just about to reply but John stopped him. "But there is another reason. Open the other tab." As Sherlock pressed the open the new tab a tiny ball of fluffy fur jumped on top of his lap.

"Hiya Zouyu!" His hands stroked the animal automatically. John didn't actually remember agreeing on getting the cat or the cat furniture that now occupied the left corner of their living room. He was also pretty sure that their lease had said that there were no pets allowed in the building and there was now that Mrs Hudson didn't know of Zouyu's existence. He had seen the kitty treats in her handbag. Still Zouyu had been in the apartment for 3 weeks and no one had mentioned in. So he thought that Zouyu had officially become part of the family.

As the kitten settled down on his lap Sherlock opened the next tab. He smiled a little when he saw Elizabeth's pictures appear on the screen. He wanted to ask what this meant but when he scrolled down his eyes winded a little. The comments underneath her pictures were similar to the ones of the blog. All of them were horrible and most of them were meant for him or John.

"This is the second reason why you should probably get out of the newspaper for a while. She is getting these kinds of comments all over the place. Including school." "But why?" "It is what people do. They don't like you but they can't get to you. So they go after the people closest to you." Sherlock face started to become red with frustration. "Fine. I'll make sure my next couple cases are a low key." He muttered something underneath his breath as he got up. John wasn't sure but he was pretty sure that it was something along the line. "And I might go visit the school again."

That was of course the week that Moriarty robbed a bank, broke prisoners out of jail and broke into the tower of London. Elizabeth experienced it first-hand seeing as she was at the tower of London that day. Her school had gone on a school trip for history and they had gone to visit the Tower. Most people had been there before but they had turned it into a game. Like every other school game it sucked pretty badly. Not that the teachers didn't try, but it was still a game that had to follow school regulations.

She was in a group with Alex, Kya and Paige which made it better. They had just visited the Tower of Ravens and were on their way to the Crown Jewels for the last part. There was a ridicules long line so Paige and Alex went to get them something to eat while Kya and Elizabeth waited in line. From time to time a couple of people got stopped at the metal detector for keeping their phone in their pocket. But finally after 30 minutes they were allowed inside the building. To be honest they were rather magnificent. They studied the text and wrote down a couple of answers. They were almost done when suddenly the alarm started to blare.

Kya looked at Elizabeth in shock. "Does this mean that this place is getting robbed?" "I think so." They started to head towards the exit when someone bumped into her. "Sorry sweetheart." She spun around in horror, sure that she had recognized the voice. "Elizabeth we have to go." but the teen was stuck in place, her heart was beating incredibly fast and her breathing was irregular. "No. I am sure. I recognized his voice. It has to be." "Lizzy come we don't have any time."

Her face had gone ghostly white but Kya grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the room. Once they were outside Elizabeth was having a full blown panic attack. "We have to warn the police. We have to call someone. Oh god it can't be." She dropped onto the floor and pressed her hands into her forehead.

"Elizabeth? Hey! Hey breathe okay breath! What is going on?" "Moriarty." She breathed out. "What do you mean?" "It was Moriarty. I heard him! He is in there!" Kya bent down in front of her friend. "You are okay Elizabeth. It isn't real. You panicked and you heard something that wasn't here." "No! No! He is in there!" hysteria had made her way into her voice and people were starting to notice.

"Are you okay miss?" One of the security guards had come to them. She tried to push herself back up. "Sir you have to call the police! He is in there!" "Miss don't worry. The police is already on their way. They'll be here any second." She shook her head violently. "No you don't understand. James Moriarty is in there! He is in there!" "Miss I need you to breathe."

"Please you have to believe me. He is dangerous." "Did you see the terrorist?" "Yes. His name is James Moriarty!" Kya shook her a little. "Listen Elizabeth! It isn't real!" "Yes it is!" Her entire body was shaking like a leaf by the time that the police arrived. Paige and Alex had already Kya in an attempt to calm the girl down but she was hyperventilating and they couldn't get it to stop.

Lestrade leaped out of the police car together with Donovan. Greg recognized the young girl curled into a little ball and stopped mid track. "Elizabeth? Are you okay?" she grabbed his arm desperate. "He is here Lestrade! It is Moriarty! You have to get him! You have to!" the man blinked in confusion not that he had understood her fully. "What?" "It is Moriarty! I saw him! I heard him!"

He considered her words before jumping up. "Listen up guys! Be careful! The man behind these doors is extremely dangerous! Take precautions!" Several officer started to guide the tourists away from the tower entrance before taking a stance. The lock down was lifted and the officers rushed into the building. An eerie silence grew over the court yard as everyone waited in suspense. There was a lot of yelling but no gunshots.

Finally a squadron of officers came out holding a whistling man in between them. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat as he made eye contact with her, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Hello Lizzy!" Recognizing the man from the video Kya and Alex pulled Elizabeth behind them in protection. Paige on the other hand launched herself in the direction of Moriarty. Paige was grabbed by an officer. "Miss please don't!" "Well look at that Elizabeth! Seems you've made a lot of new friends here in England."

The Irish man was pushed down into the police car. "Make sure to cherish them!" Panic settled through her as the words settled in. She couldn't breathe. She had left Belgium to protect her friends. She hadn't thought about any of this when she had started making new friends. Elizabeth wasn't sure what to do now, what if he came after them now? The car drove off towards the police station as Lestrade returned to her side. He helped the girl back onto her feet. "Listen sweetheart I am going to drop you of at Bakerstreet okay? You don't have to worry about a thing. We have in custody and he cannot hurt you. You are safe alright." She nodded vaguely and followed the man to his car.

 **Chapter 82**

By the time that Lestrade had arrived at Bakerstreet both Sherlock and John knew that he was back. They had also heard that he had broken into the tower of London while Elizabeth had been there. Neither of them believed that this had been a coincident. Luckily Lestrade had texted them to let them know she was safe. Neither of them believed that this had been a coincidence.

Elizabeth was a complete mess when she arrived at their doorstep. Greg told John that he had been trying to calm her down the entire drive but that he had been unsuccessful. Mrs Hudson brought them a cup of tea while the two men sat the girl down onto the couch. Talking to her wouldn't work, there was very little they could say that she didn't know.

So Sherlock just settled down onto the couch with his violin and John sat next to Elizabeth. The girl had curled up into him, Zouyu had decided to take a nap on her lap which seemed to help. After about an hour Elizabeth had calmed down considerably with the help of music, a purring kitten and tea. She still wasn't okay, far from it, but she had been able to regain her composure.

All three of them realised that things could go two ways now that Moriarty was caught. Either he would get thrown in prison and life become well or he would get released. If that happened something horrible had gone wrong and life would go downhill incredibly quickly.

Two days later the trail was on foot and all three of them were called as witnesses. They had asked the jury if Elizabeth could be excused but the judge had been stern. They wanted to make sure that he would get send to prison. So all three of them were preparing themselves for court that morning. They all looked smart but none of them felt it. Elizabeth was sure her heart was going to implode or that she was going to sweat straight through her blouse.

Sherlock was trying to contain his anger. He needed to keep controle of the situation, he needed to make sure that Moriarty was focused on him, not Liz. And John. Well John felt the need to punch the wall or Moriartys face. Mrs Hudson came up to the living room with Greg in tow. "You guys ready?" They nodded and headed downstairs. Just as she wanted to open the door Sherlock stopped her. He grabbed a couple of hats from the coat hanger. "Here, there will be pictures."

He pulled the deer stalker over his own head and plopped a cap onto her. Greg grinned a little at them before shoving open the door. Immediately they were all bombarded by photographers and journalists. Sherlock tried to shield Elizabeth as much from view as possible as they got into the car. This resulted in pictures of Sherlock with his cap draped over his curls, with Elizabeth practically shoved into his coat and John holding her hand as they hurried to the car.

Elizabeth was called to the stand first seeing as her case was the oldest. There hadn't really been a case before because Moriarty couldn't be found. But now all of this had to be dredged up. She was brought in front of the stand and had to give her statement. She tried her best to stay calm and short but was difficult. Moriarty was right there in front of her. He smiled at her as she started tell the court everything that had happened to her. From the kidnapping to the torture and the attempted killing. He even chuckled when she told them that he made Sherlock and John do it. Her voice had become completely monotone when she reached the murder of her family. It was impossible to talk about these events without breaking down. To keep herself calm she had to look at it from afar, as if it happened to someone else.

After giving her full report the defended was allowed to ask a couple of questions. "According to the defended you were given the option to leave at all times. Is this true?" Elizabeth shivered. "If I left someone else." "Were you free to leave at all times?" "No!" She yelled. "I couldn't leave! I was chained up!" "But you chose to stay when you were offered to leave?" "If I left?" "Did you leave?" "No!"

"Objection!" "On what grounds?" "Incomplete. The defended completely ignores the fact that if Miss Elizabeth left another person would have been kidnapped." "Sustained." "Do you have any other questions?" the judge asked. Moriartys lawyer shook his head and lowered it in shame. "That is all." "Very well. We will now oversee the medical report from after Elizabeth's kidnapping. Serval pictures of her abused body were put up on the screen and a collective gaps came through the entire court.

She hadn't actually seen all of her injuries before and was having a hard time not to look away. She clutched Sherlock's hand when the photos of her back became visible. Sherlock pushed a bit closer to her and squeezed her hand back. Then the pictures of the car crash came up and she had to look away. The man wrapped his arms around Elizabeth's shoulders and pulled her closer into him.

The rest of the case went quick, the video of her near death was shown along with the video of him breaking into the tower of London. "Defender any witnesses?" "The defendant remains silent." Confusion ran through the court room. "You plead innocent and you are not bringing any witnesses?" "No sir." His lawyer seemed frustrated and he sat down in defeat. "Very well. Sit back down again." the judge rolled his eyes. The court was adjourned and everyone was allowed to have a quick toilet break while the court allowed to discuss.

Elizabeth was having a hard time getting out of the chair. They left the room and John kept his hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. "There is no way that he won't get sentenced to jail." Elizabeth shook her head slightly. "I don't believe it." "What?" "It is too easy." "Come on Elizabeth you have to be." "No John. She is right." "Sherlock don't say that! He has no case to protect himself!"

"That is the entire point John!" Elizabeth was visibly shaking again. "He has a plan. I know he does." John pulled the young teen back into a hug and threw a quick pleading look at Sherlock. "I have to leave." "What!" the doctor's voice was laced with surprise. "I am going back to the apartment. You can stay here if you want." "You can't do this Sherlock." he hissed and shook his head angrily. "Don't be selfish." John could swear that the detective flinched slightly at those hard words.

"Let him go John." "Liz he can't just walk out on us." "Let him go!" she raised her voice a little. "I don't want to fight and I know this will end in a fight." She turned back to Sherlock. "Just go." He opened his mouth to say something but realised that it would be useless. He nodded apologetic at before turning on his heels and leaving. As they watched the detective leave John turned to her. "Do you want to leave as well?" shaking her head furiously she answered. "No. I need to be here. I need to hear it." "Alright. Then we are staying here."

He tried to smile encouraging. Just then a gentleman rushed passed them. "Come on it is starting again." Elizabeth didn't make eye contact with John as she straightened her shoulders. "Come on." She led them back into the court room as they took a seat. Her heart leaped a little when Moriarty was returned into the room. The judge called for calm and turned to the court.

"Ladies and gentleman of the jury James Moriarty stands accused of several counts of attempted burglary. Crimes which, if he's found guilty, will elicit a very long custodial sentence and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the usual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty."

Elizabeth sat a little straighter and she allowed her to hope just a little. A woman closest to the judge and stood up. "We find James Moriarty not guilty." A gasp ran through the crowed including the judge. Elizabeth was pretty sure she hadn't heard them correctly. Moriarty turned his head around towards her and grinned.

The entire world around her went mute. She couldn't register the shouts filling the court, she didn't realise that John had leaped from his seat and was screaming in frustration at the jury members. His screams came in muffled and unimportant as those two little words rang sharp through her mind. _Not guilty. … Not guilty … not guilty…_ his eyes stayed on hers and she couldn't look away. Those empty brown pools in his eyes pulled her down till she couldn't breathe. His pearl white grin shining brightly blinding her from all hope. _Not guilty._

His lips curled upwards even though she couldn't not hear what he said the word was dominated her already broken mind. _Elizabeth._ Her name said with a cruel wanting and need, coated in dominance and power. Her heart started to race and she felt like her entire body was being dragged down into darkness as those two thoughts fought in her head. Both of them screaming louder and louder to be the dominate one. _Not guilty. Elizabeth._ _Not guilty. Elizabeth_ _._ _Notguilty Elizabeth._ _Notguiltyelizabethnotguiltyelizabethnotguiltyelizabethnotelizabethguilty!_ _NOTGUILTYELIZABETHNOTGUILTYELIZABETH!_

At a certain point John must have lead her out of the room because she found herself collapsed on the courthouse steps surrounded by yelled out questions from reporters. John sat on his knees in front of her, trying to calm her down and get her to stand up. His words mingled with those of strangers and her vision grew misty as a phantom pain started to grow on her back, stomach, in the bones of her finger, the marked spot on her thigh and between her legs.

A gentle hand reached for her chin and brought her eyes level with grey once filled with fiery passion. Elizabeth jerked away from the touch in reflex but didn't avert the gaze. "Lizzy." He said softly. "He won't touch you. We won't let you. We will keep you safe." She shook her head feverishly remembering similar words from years ago. "We won't let him doing anything to you." "John don't." she managed to whimper. "Please don't. I can't do this. I can't."

With a broken sob she dropped her head in her hands, pressing the palms into her eyes. Careful not to startle her he pulled her into his arms. "We are going home." She allowed him to pick her shaking form up and lift her into his arms. Elizabeth face was buried into his shoulder as he carried her down the court house steps. Immediately they were swarmed by journalists and cameras were shoved in John's face. He was almost pushed of balance as one reporter tried to get a shot of Elizabeth tear stroked cheeks.

"Let us pass!" he yelled at them but they persisted until finally a police officer came to help the struggling doctor. A couple of extra officer started to clear a path and hailed a cab when John refused the offer of being driven home. He carefully climbed into one, cradling Elizabeth into her chest as not to bump her. He set her down next to her and clicked the seat belt closed. Her eyes had gone still and empty, tear tracks still visible on her flushed cheeks. Shock had taken over and she couldn't react to anything.

Swallowing hard to settle his own nerves he grabbed her hand tightly in his and called Sherlock. The detective picked up after two rings. "John?" "Not guilty." He was surprised at the anger in his own voice as he spoke. Sherlock didn't seem surprised. "How is Elizabeth?" "What do you expect Sherlock! I am taking her home." "You can't." "What?" "You can't come to the flat yet. I need some more time." Never before had John felt such fury towards his roommate. "And she need us!" the cabbie turned his head in alarm but quickly averted his gaze when he met the dangerous eyes of the soldier.

"I know John. But I am doing this for her. Please John. Give me 15 minutes." "Fuck you Sherlock." he hissed between his teeth. He hung up the phone and fought the urge to throw it out the window. The nervouse cabbie threw another glance back at the strange couple in his back seat. "Where to?" John racked his brain to find a safe and familiar place for them to go. Elizabeth's friends were impossible because he knew she'd never want to put them in danger. Finally he gave the man behind the wheel the address of Greg and off they went.

 **Chapter 83**

Sherlock grimaced at the phone after his friend had hung up. He understood John's frustration and anger, he had every right to be angry. If only he could explain why they had to stay away from the flat. Sherlock knew what would happen next, he wasn't a fool. He knew that the next thing Moriarty would do was visit him to rub his success in his face.

It was his job to protect Elizabeth in every possible way, to keep Moriartys attention on him and not on her. She was just a toy to him, nothing more than a distraction to keep himself entertained. The real game was Sherlock, the criminal master mind wanted him, not her. So if he could keep Moriarty happy and entertained than everything would be okay.

So he would prepare himself for the visit. He made them some tea and grabbed a couple of biscuits from the tin. Mrs Hudson came up when she heard the commotion. "Need a hand Sherlock?" he smiled politely at her as he shook his head. Something on his face must have given his stress away because her forehead creased over with worry. "You sure honey? Is there something going on with the hearing? Where is Elizabeth and John?"

Sherlock took a deep breath before stepping forward and grabbed the older woman by the shoulders. "Mrs Hudson I need you to listen to me very carefully. Stay in your kitchen. No matter what stay inside. Don't come out. Don't let anyone see you. Can you do that for me? Please?" "Honey what is wrong? Are you in danger?" He tried to smile reassuringly. "Not really but it would be safer for you if my further visitor didn't make contact with you."

"Okay Sherlock." she nodded hurriedly. "I'll come get you once you are safe. Alright?" the woman hurried down into the kitchen as Sherlock went to grab his violin. He played a soft tune as he looked out of the window for the criminal. A black cab pulled up across the street but a blonde woman stepped out instead. As he watched her leave, he heard the door open.

Chapter 83

Moriarty was here.

He continued to play his violin steadily, listening carefully at the sounds around him. When a floorboard cracked he stopped playing for a second. His breath caught in his throat as his heart sped up. This might be one of the most important talks in his life. The conversation had already started even though they weren't in the same room yet. Just as he reached his crescendo his door was opened by the criminal mind. He removed the bow from his strings a little too quickly, he could feel Moriartys grin radiating on his back at his obvious discomfort. "Most people knock. But then, you're not most people, I suppose." He shook his head a little, dropping his violin from his shoulder. "Kettle's just boiled." He kept his back to the man, knowing that any and every facial feature would give him a clue to his emotional state.

He could see the man in the grey suit move towards the middle of the room. "Johann Sebastian would be appalled." He drawled in a bored manner. Moriarty grabbed an apple from the basket and tossed it around as he glanced around the room. "May I?" "Please." Sherlock motioned towards John's stairs and cursed himself for not realising that he had set himself up.

With a sly smile Moriarty took a seat in the opposite chair. Though it was a power move and a show of strength, it still felt a little childish. Two could play that game. "You know, while he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces." The man started his story while carving parts out of the apple. To keep his nerves steady Sherlock started to pour the green tea. "The boy stopped before he got to the end. " "And the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it. Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

Sherlock finished the story. "Neither can you. It's why you've come." He didn't feel like beating around the bush a lot longer. "But be honest, you're just a tiny bit pleased." Moriarty teased from the comfort of his armchair. "What? With the verdict?" it took a bit of will power to keep the anger from his voice as he handed him the cup of hot tea. Purposely keeping the handle of the cup pointing towards himself. "With me." He pretended not to notice the insult, instead looking up at the detective with a devilish smile.

"Back on the streets. Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain." Sherlock turned away with a slight glare. "You need me or you're nothing." he said as a matter of fact, eating as if they were having the most normal conversation ever. "Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels." Sherlock noticed him sniff the tea as an inspection for poison.

"You go to the jury, of course." He tried to get him back on track. "I got into the Tower of London, you think I can't worm my way into 12 hotel rooms?" he chuckled a little, still not drinking from the tea, not truly trusting the detective. "Cable network." He sighed before taking his seat. "Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen. And every person has their pressure point, someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy peasy." The threat was crystal clear.

"So how are you going to do it?" he brought his own cup to his lip, the man following his movements. "Burn me?" "Oh that is the problem. The final problem." He watched Sherlock take a sip from the mixture of milk and tea. "Have you worked out what it is yet? What's the final problem? I did tell you. But did you listen?" he spoke in his signature sing-song voice as he final drank from his own cup.

When he put the cup back down his fingers started to tick on his knee. He might call it a nervouse tick but Moriarty did nothing without a reason. "How hard do you find it having to say "I don't know"?" "I don't know." He shrugged a bit. "Oh, that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?" Sherlock stilled for a second, the conversation was starting to go into a dangerous territory. "Told them what?" "Why I broke into all those places and never took anything?" "No." "But you understand." "Obviously." "Off you go, then." "You want me to tell you what you already know?" he scuffed. "No." he swallowed another mouth full of apple. "I want you to prove that you know it."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to." He decided entertain the criminal might be a bit better. "Good." "You'll never need to take anything ever again." "Very good. Because?" "Because nothing, nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three." "I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now. They're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I own secrecy."

Though Sherlock rolled his eyes real dread was starting to upset his stomach. He could scold his outside pretty perfectly but his insides had an entirely different mind. "Nuclear codes, I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And honey, you should see me in a crown."

Moriarty seemed to be rather smug that he ended his entire monologue in such a fashion. A part of Sherlock wondered if he had practiced that speech in his mind. "Maybe I should get myself a little queen." A sly smile curled at his lips as Sherlock visibly reacted to his statement. "A pretty little plaything to sit next to my throne. To smile prettily for my guest and give me a little good night kiss." His eyebrow raised as he gauge a reaction from the detective.

Sherlock wasn't stupid and he could feel the conversation going into the wrong direction. He decided to just ignore the comment completely. "You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do."

"Well yeah. I do like to show off a little flare from time to time. Tell me, honestly, you enjoyed my little performance just a tiny bit." He shrugged in disagreement.

"You know you were helping. Big client list. Rogue governments, intelligence communities." He waited for a second, probably for dramatic effect. "Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly I'm Mr Sex." "You can break any bank. What do you care about the highest bidder?" "I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. 'Daddy loves me the best!' Aren't ordinary people adorable?"

He smiled at him. "Well, you know. You've got John and little Lizzy. I should get myself a live-in one." the smile turned into a grin. "A Miss Sex. It would be fun." "Why are you doing all of this?" "It must be so funny." "You don't want money or power, not really. What. Is. It. All. For?"

He had to keep her away from Elizabeth. He had to keep him focused on him, not on her. "I want to solve the problem. Our problem. The final problem." He nodded slowly at Sherlock. "It is going to start very soon, Sherlock. The fall. But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination." He whistled slowly before making a loud crashing sound all the while chuckling.

Sherlock sucked in a little breathe as he steadied himself. "I never liked riddles." He got up quickly regaining composure. Moriarty got up to stand eye to eye with him. "Learn to." He took a step closer tilting his head slightly. "Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I. Owe. You." he held his stare, Moriartys stare was a predatory one while Sherlock's was a confronted one.

Moriarty started to walk away but stopped almost next to the door. There was a picture framed on a little closet next to the entry way. In the picture Elizabeth had jumped onto Sherlock's back and had thrown the detective of balance. John had dared her to do something he couldn't predict was laughing loudly behind them. Lestrade had been in on the entire thing and had taken the picture.

For Elizabeth's birthday Sherlock had framed the picture and put it out in the open. The teen had mentioned that there were no pictures of them in the house. That their home didn't look really like a home.

Moriarty had noticed the picture. Carefully he picked up the frame and chuckled. "How sweet." Sherlock's entire body was rigid. Luckily he put the photo back down on the closet. "I'll see you guys soon." He waved goodbye cheerily at him before tossing the apple he had been holding at the detective. Sherlock caught the fruit and studied it. There were three large letters carved into it. I O U.

Oh fuck.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know it has been a while but tada here is another chapter! I hope you guys like it! Please let me know any good or bad points of the story! Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14 - The beginning of the end

Chapter 84

With a trembling sigh the detective dropped back down in his worn armchair once he was sure that Moriarty had left. He placed his face in his hands and stayed like that till he heard the door open. John had returned with Elizabeth so he straightened out his back and sat up straight. When the doctor came in with his arm wrapped around the young girls waist, if he didn't support her she would have collapsed. When Sherlock moved to help them the doctor glared a warning at him.

Defeated he retreated to the kitchen and restarted the kettle. He could hear him John talk softly to Elizabeth as he sat her down in the sofa. The girl had gone fully into shock and wasn't responding to anything. When the kettle went off he returned to the living with the tea pot and a couple of cups. John had wrapped his arm tightly around the girl who had curled up into his lap. She was slowly coming out of it and reality had started to return to her.

Carefully avoiding John's fiery gaze Sherlock dropped down onto his knees in front of her face. "Oh Elizabeth. I am so sorry." She raised her eyes to meet his, she was still crying but her eyes hardened. "I should have been there I know but I had to stay." "But you didn't." It came out as a hiss. "Elizabeth." "No Sherlock." John interrupted him before he could protest. "She is right. She needed you there. _We_ needed you there and you just left. You figured he would end up free and still you left."

"I am sorry John. But I had." "No Sherlock! No. You have no excuse." He dropped his head down on his chest in shame. He wanted to explain to John what had happened but he couldn't, not with Elizabeth right there. If she knew that Moriarty had been in their apartment she would lose it. Now that she thought about it, it might be better if John didn't know either. If he told John he might want to help, but maybe it would be better if John couldn't help. Shaking slightly he got back up. "You are right. I'll leave you guys alone." Neither of them protested as he left the apartment, not that he had expected them to.

With Sherlock gone Elizabeth and John sat silently on the sofa. His hands played with her hair as she cried a softly. After a little while her body had stopped shaking and her breathing had slowed down. It was pretty clear that the young girl had fallen asleep. "God this entire situation was fucked up." Careful not to wake her up he moved her head from his lap and opened his phone. Lestrade had texted him to ask how Elizabeth was and to say how sorry he was for not being home when they needed him. He had been out of town on a case when they had arrived at his apartment.

So they had returned to 221B Bakerstreet. For the entire car drive both of them had been silent. The only thing he could think of was Elizabeth in a police bathroom surround by her own blood. The image kept flashing in his mind and he couldn't risk losing her like that again. The thin white lines were still visible all around her wrist had he knew that if he wasn't careful she would add new ones.

He was pulled out of his train of thought when the phone is pocket started to buzz. _Mycroft._ He grunted in frustration and he picked up the phone. "What do you want Mycroft?" he heard the man huff in indignation at the other end of the line. "Hello to you too John. I have been trying to get your attention since the trial." "Yeah I noticed. Most normal people use the phone. You know that device that was invented to communicate with other people."

Mycroft tack fully ignore that comment and continued his conversation. "If you noticed, why did you ignore me? We need to talk. It is important." "Well I had more important things on my mind Holmes. So to rephrase: _What do you want?_ "

"Well with Moriarty back on the streets there are a couple of things we need to discuss. I'll have a car at your flat in a moment. I'd appreciate it if you." "No." "What?" "If you want to talk to me you are going to get into a car and get your ass over here." "I don't think you understand John." "No, you don't understand. Right now Elizabeth is asleep on our shitty couch. Sherlock is disappeared into the streets, Mrs Hudson has gone and Lestrade is on a case. If you think I am leaving Elizabeth here alone to come talk to you in your fancy office you are dead wrong."

"It isn't safe to talk in the open." "I don't give a fuck. She is the priority. If you want to talk you have to come here." Before the man could react he hung up the phone and dropped back down into the armchair. It was in these moments that he wasn't surprised that those guys were related. It was also in these moments he didn't understand why he hadn't killed Sherlock and shoved Mycroft down a case of stairs.

The phone rang a couple more times but John just ignored it and finally the man gave up. The doctor wasn't sure whether or not he'd actually come over. So he settled down and picked up the cup Sherlock had put down for them but it had already cooled down. None the less he sipped at the lukewarm water, with a frown. Elizabeth murmured a little in her sleep and turned onto her side. Her face was turned to him. The tears had left wet trails down her cheeks and the muscles in her face had gone taunt.

Another little whimper escaped from her sleeping form and her leg jerked slightly. She was having a nightmare, a night terror. Careful not to startle her he moved towards her. "Hey Lizzy." He started to whisper, it is what you do to dogs isn't it? To a startled animal. You whisper at it, you let it know that you are coming towards them and don't mean them any harm. Gently he placed his hand on her shoulder. Instinctively she flinched slightly. "Hey calm down. Don't worry. It is just me." he murmured again. "Lizzy it is just a dream. It isn't real. You are safe." He sat down at the side of sofa and stroked her hair. "You are in the flat. I am here. You are safe." Automatically the girl grabbed his sleeve tightly.

He shushed softly and kept talking to him. "You are okay. We are safe. Don't be afraid." After a little while her muscles calmed down and relaxed. Her grip on his arm had loosened as her breathing relaxed. "There you go. Just keep breathing." He stayed next to her for a long time, just reassuring her and stroking her head in smoothing movements. When the doorbell rang he jumped slightly and it took him a minute to remember that he had invited Mycroft to their flight.

He grabbed a blanket and covered Elizabeth's sleeping form with it and went to open the door. An annoyed Mycroft stood waiting in the doorway. John stepped back to let the man threw and lead him up the stairs. They went into the kitchen passing the living room as they went. "Elizabeth is sleeping. Don't wake her up." "Good to see you too." Instead of responding he just waited for him to start his story. "Very well then, I'll tell you why I am hear." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and put it onto the grimy kitchen table. "Is Sherlock in?" "No." "Good. Do you know this person?" Frowning John took the picture that was handed to him and studied it.

"Uhm. No I don't think so." Mycroft grinned sadly. "He lives two doors down from here." "Hmm. I was thinking of doing a drinks thing for the neighbours. You know getting to know each other, like in the small towns in the country side." "I'm not sure you'll want to. Sulejmani." He said while gesturing at the photograph. "Albanian hit squad. Expertly trained killer, living less than 20 feet from your door." A tiny bit of concern sparked his nerves, a warning of danger. Not that he wanted to show Mycroft that. "Well it is an excellent location. Jubilee Line's handy." "John." The man sighed with frustration. "What's it got to do with me?"

But Mycroft continued, handing him yet another printed out picture. "Dyachenko, Ludmila." "Um, actually, I think I have seen her." in fact he remembered when she had moved in. At the time he had wanted to introduce himself but Sherlock had swept him away and he had forgotten all about her. "Russian killer. She's taken the flat opposite." "Okay…" he couldn't help but squirm slightly uncomfortable at the growing threat. "I'm sensing a pattern here." "In fact, four top international assassins relocate to within spitting distance of 221b."

John accepted the files. A sudden bitterness filled him as he flicked through the pages as he realised that the flat wasn't as safe as he had promised Elizabeth. "Anything you care to share with me?" "I'm moving?" the laughter that followed came out forced, even to his own ears. "It's not hard to guess the common denominator, is it?" "You think this is." He lowered his voice out of habit. "Moriarty." He glanced at the sleeping girl only a couple of meters away but she hadn't moved and seemed to be fast asleep still.

"He promised Sherlock he'd come back." "If this was Moriarty he'd be dead already." "If not Moriarty, then who?" John contemplated this for a second. Sherlock had many enemies but none of them had this much power. "Why don't you talk to Sherlock if you're so concerned about him?" when the man avoided his gaze he became frustrated, again. "Oh god! Don't tell me." "Too much history between us, John. Old scores, resentments." He was actually serious, he wasn't even joking. "Nicked all his Smurfs? Broke his action man?" he laughed mockingly at the display in front of him. "Finished." He got up to lead the man out but he stepped in front of him, to stop him.

"We both know what's coming, John. Moriarty is obsessed, he's sworn to destroy his only rival." He raised his head to make eye-contact with the taller man. "So you want me to watch out for your brother because he won't accept your help." He spat angrily, he had had enough with the Holmes family. "If it's not too much trouble." John merely scoffed and made a move to pass him. Mycroft stopped him by grabbing his arm. "If you won't do this for me or Sherlock. Do it for her." he pointed through the open door at the sofa where Elizabeth's sleeping form still rose and fell with every breath.

"If Moriarty gets Sherlock. If he is left unchecked, he will go for her again." "John ripped his arm free. "Goodbye Mycroft." He hissed. The man nodded, he knew that John would do what he asked, and he left. John rubbed his eyes tiredly. He needed this to stop, he needed this bullshit to end. He needed Sherlock home, Mycroft somewhere running the government, Lestrade asking them for help, Moriarty behind bars and Elizabeth in school, happy.

An hour later Mrs Hudson came home and hurried upstairs. "Oh John. Are you alright? What happened? Where is Sherlock?" he hugged the woman tightly. "I don't know Mrs Hudson. He left and hasn't come back yet. Where did you go?" she patted his cheek and moved towards Elizabeth. "Sherlock told me to go. To get out of the house. He said it was dangerous and that he'd tell me when I could come back. He texted me only a couple of minutes ago."

"He said there was danger?" "Yes. I don't know what it was. He seemed very tense though." John contemplated it for a second. "I'm sure he'll be alright. I'm sure of it." the woman nodded. "We just got into a row. He'll probably be back by morning." she smiled kindly at him and patted the young girls shoulder slightly. "Do you want some dinner?"

"No thank you. It is late anyway. I think I'll just go to sleep." He kissed her softly on the cheek and she left to go downstairs. John sighed and picked up the sleeping girl, careful not to wake her. At first he made to her bedroom but he changed his mind. He didn't think he should leave her alone that night. So he carried her to his own bedroom and put her down onto his bed. He changed into his pyjamas and crawled back into bed next to her. By the morning Sherlock had returned home though he stayed out of his way till the day afterwards. Elizabeth stayed quiet and skittish though she returned a bit to her normal self.

Chapter 85

They decided that Elizabeth probably shouldn't be alone anymore. They kept a close eye on her, at school her friends stayed by her side and her teachers made sure she was always on time in the class. Every day after school someone would go and pick her up, she didn't leave the building until she saw someone she knew waiting for her. Things started to get back into rhythm and Moriarty became less and less instant danger.

A certain feeling of security had returned into their lives. Sherlock had even started to take on cases again. Apparently the trial had made him even more popular because soon he became akin to a celebrity. He had to disguise himself a lot harder to keep from being discovered and paparazzi followed him through the more public cases. Sherlock didn't really mind, it gave every case a little more tension and a bigger challenge. John however didn't enjoy it as much. He didn't like the attention they were getting. He got frustrated by the constant stream of catalogue articles and newspaper columns.

Some of them where in Sherlock's favour, praising his hard work and his amazing mind. Other not so much. They criticised the police for allowing a drug attic to work with them. They called him a freak and a monster whose methods were inhuman and cruel. Luckily for them those were the less popular opinions. Sherlock didn't understand why John cared. Maybe he didn't like being labelled a bachelor, though he didn't understand why. Surely it must help him with his dating life. Now being called Sherlock's gay lover might not do him any good though.

John argued that he just didn't like all the attention they were getting. He said that it might be dangerous though Sherlock didn't believe that. He hardly believed they could be in any more danger then they were now. With Moriarty out on the streets and the four assassins living next door. He couldn't help but smirk when he thought of them, he knew that Moriarty knew about them and that he probably warned John about them to. Did his brother really think so little of him that he thought he wouldn't realise that there were killers living across the road.

He didn't care about all of the attention until one of the paparazzi took it a step to far. One Monday afternoon it was his job to go and pick up Liz from school. He was running a little late but that was nothing unusual. The girl always brought a book with her whenever it was his turn to go and pick her up to keep her occupied.

However when he did finally arrive his blood boiled. At first he couldn't see find her and he figured she must still be inside but then he spotted to figures at the far end of the playground. Elizabeth had her back pressed against the iron gate and someone stood towering over her. With a growl he ran forward and grabbed the stranger by their shoulder, ripping them backwards. It was a young man holding a camera. "Hey what the hell man!" his face changed from anger into childlike excitement. "OMG you are Sherlock Holmes! I am such a big." He didn't get to finish that sentence because Sherlock slammed his fist straight in his jaw. Elizabeth hadn't moved an inch since he had arrived. Her eyes were big with terror and her knuckles were white because of the grip on the bars behind her. Her breathing was irregular but other than that she seemed to be unharmed.

"You okay Liz?" She took a shuddering breathe and nodded. "Yes, yes I'm fine." Carefully she let go of the bars and relaxed slightly. Meanwhile the hoodlum had gotten back up with indignation. "What the hell man!" he repeated himself. "Not cool! What you do that for?!" "I have tolerated almost everything you have done but if any of you _ever_ go near her again I'll kill you myself." The man's eyes widened with disbelief. "Chill out man! I didn't even touch her." "No I won't chill out. Now do you understand?"

"Come on." The detective grabbed his collar and dragged him forward. "Sherlock!" Elizabeth protested. "Wow. Fine, fine, I'll leave her alone." Sherlock kept his eyes on him for an extra second before shoving him away. "Now fuck off." The boy looked at them in disbelief before he turned around and ran off in the opposite direction. Sherlock turned back around and carefully took hold of the girls shoulder. "What did he do?" "Nothing." "What did he do Elizabeth?" "Nothing." She insisted. "He just walked up to me and started to ask question. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what he wanted. When I didn't answer he grabbed my arm and I panicked."

He pulled her closer and gave her a quick hug. "Let's get you home." They walked towards the street and Sherlock hailed a cab. Just before they got in Sherlock saw the young man with his camera standing across the street. His face was bruised and he was talking into the camera. That video wouldn't do him any favours. The man's video was uploaded online a couple of hours later under the username _TheNobleBachelor_ and it didn't look good at all.

By the time John found out he demanded an explanation. Elizabeth was send out of the room but she could still hear the discussion from the hallway. John was frustrated and angry, he yelled at Sherlock a lot and John took it. It basically came down to the longest _I told you so_ that she had ever heard. They ended up deciding that Sherlock wouldn't take any high profile jobs for a while.

The video spread like wild fire and reporters from all around wanted an interview with him so he could explain. Some took his side, they all knew Elizabeth's back story and they saw the way she looked on the video. Others said that Sherlock still shouldn't have done that, that he shouldn't have hit the boy. But no matter which side the media took he refused any and all contact with the media.

And it worked as well as it ever did. For a little while Sherlock managed to stay out of the trouble which meant that Elizabeth and John stayed out of trouble as well. But it didn't last. About a week and a half later Lestrade came into their flat with a guilty looking face. He knew that they wanted to stay out of trouble and he was about to drag them into more trouble.

"What is it?" "Sorry Sherlock, but he asked for you especially. The kids of the British Ambassador to the US have disappeared. Please Sherlock." The detective glanced at John and the man sighed. "Kids Sherlock." "You heard the man George, we're in." Lestrade didn't even bother to correct the man. "I'll stay with Mrs Hudson. Don't worry about me." She reassured them. "I'll be fine. Go save those kids." The doctor gave her a quick hug and Lestrade ruffled her hair and they were gone out of the door.

She saw the men climb into the black cab and disappear around the corner. Curiously she fished her phone out of her back pocked. She wanted to find out more about the case. She couldn't find a single thing. Probably meant that the kids had only recently been kidnapped. That made sense, Lestrade was probably called immediately when the kids disappeared.

Meanwhile the officer explained to Sherlock and John the details of the case. Several different emotions ran across John's face, anger, disgust and worry. Sherlock on the other hand sat slouched down in the cab chair, his head tilted backwards and his eyes were dropped low. If he hadn't known him this well he'd be offended but he knew that man was committing all important details into his mind.

Once the cab stopped Sherlock leaped out and hurried towards the gate. Worry blossomed in Lestrade's heart so he ran after the man and grabbed his arm. "Listen Sherlock. That woman over there is Mr Mackenzie. She works in the school and was the last woman that saw the kids." Sherlock started to walk away but he stopped her again. "She has had a hard time. Be kind." The way he grinned made him worry even more.

With a frustrated groan he watched the detective walk towards the elder woman. In the beginning it seemed to be going pretty good, the man was gentle enough, of course it didn't last long. Suddenly he raised his voice and grabbed the woman by her frail shoulders. "God damn it." he heard John mutter underneath his breath and they both made their way to the detective. By the time they were at his side he had let go of the woman. "Mrs Mackenzie will be needing a bag to breath into now."

John scolded him but he simply replied. "I need her to speak fast." If Lestrade didn't need that man he'd tell him to fuck off. So he led him through the building. Anderson raised his nose as Sherlock crawled across the young girl's room on his hands and his knees so Lestrade shoved him slightly in his chest. Sometimes he wished that Anderson would take notice of the amateur's methods, skills and energy and copy them instead of scoffing at them. It was frustrating to see really.

After the girls room he lead him into the play room. Again he spend a good three quarters looking through all of the toys and sheets. Halfway through, he pulled an envelope out of the toy box. Lestrade turned a quick look to his fellow agents to see if any of them had found it. The fact that Donovan's face had gone a shade darker answered his question.

After scanning the fabric he concluded that there were no prints and he opened it up. Out came an old children's book. The cover read 'Grimm's fairy tales'. Clearly the book meant more to Sherlock than to the rest of them because his face creased over with worry for a second. He continued through the room a little longer before turning to Lestrade.

"Where did the brother sleep?" So they led him to the other room. The second he stepped into the room a smile pulled at his lip. "This might be interesting. Look at the window. The boy can see anyone and anything on the other side. He probably saw the intruder before he pushed open the door." he stopped his narration halfway through and walked to the bed. He sniffed the sheets and a smile grew on his face. "Oh this is a clever kid! Look at those books. Spy novels!" when no one reacted he rolled his eyes. "The kid is obsessed with spy stories and sees a stranger through the window. What does he do?" still no responds. "He leaves a clue." We need a black light and we need to darken up the room."

They did what he told them to do and words appeared on the wall next to the bed. _Help us._ "Well that doesn't help us." Lestrade had half a mind to smack Anderson on the back of his head. Was he really this stupid or did he just want to under mind the detective that badly. Instead of replying Sherlock moved the black light to the ground and started to deduce the situation by a couple of footsteps.

The tracks were visible for a good while in the hallway but they did eventually end. "See." Anderson smiled. "Nothing we can learn from this." "Really now? Do you really think so?" Anderson looked a little uncertain but held his ground. "Yes." "You are right. The only thing we now know is his high, his stride, his gait and his shoe size. But you are right, we know nothing now." He scrapped some of the tissue from the floor and stored it in plastic sterile bag. "Time to go to lab?" John's question was answered by a smirk. "Hey. Missing kids. Maybe keep that smile away."

Chapter 86

Sherlock frowned to please his friend but he couldn't help the slight feeling of glee. It had been too long since he had had a good case. Now that he was keeping out of trouble it meant he kept away from all interesting cases. It was for Elizabeth and he didn't mind keeping the kid save but he needed this. He had already quite drugs for her and John, he had even stopped smoking. Or at least he was trying to. But keeping away from cases, that was just a bit too hard. He could feel himself go crazy, stuck in the apartment. It felt a lot like withdrawal, as if his brain was melting.

So yeah maybe it was a little inappropriate but he hadn't felt this alive and focused in a long while. He kept his face neutral on the drive to Saint-Bart's. "I texted Elizabeth to tell here where we are going." He let out a hum in responds. "She is alright, by the way." "Good." he wasn't really paying attention which he knew bothered John a lot but he had better things to think about at the moment. They arrived in a couple of minutes and he moved swiftly to the lab.

Molly was heading in the opposite direction and he grabbed her arm as they passed. "I was just leaving." She protested in vain. "No you're not." he knew that the woman had a crush on him and would do almost anything he asked. "I've got a lunch date." "Cancel it. You are having dinner with us." "What?" "One of your old boyfriends is acting out."

John halted for a second. "Moriarty?" "Of course it is Moriarty." his face whitened noticeably and he retrieved his phone. "Don't." "What?" "Don't call her John. He isn't after her." "She deserves to know." At this he halted as well and turned back to his comrade. "Maybe so. But what will it do? Do you think she'll feel safe, that she'll be happy to know? Her life is finally gone back to semi normality. Telling her now will only cause a mental breakdown. One we won't be able to help her through because we are trying to catch this man." He allowed his words to sink in. "So yes, she deserves to know. But do you honestly think that is what is best for her?"

Reluctantly the doctor put back his phone. "Good." he nodded to both of them. "Now let's get down to business." Swirling around on the back of his heels and pushed open the double doors to his familiar lab. He dropped down into the office chair behind his microscope, prepared the samples and started his work with a feeling of glee.

Knowing the routine by now John sat down a little further and pulled up one of the laptops. Lestrade had send him the camera footage for him to sort through. A team back at the office was doing the same but Sherlock didn't trust the professionals, he insisted that John did it. Meanwhile Molly helped him out with the different petri dishes. "Oil." He announced suddenly. "What?" "I am using oil to figure out more about the kidnapper." John blinked a couple of times confused. "How did you know what I was thinking?" "What else would you think about?"

"So how does it work?" the doctor sounded intrigued and moved to stand behind him. "It is simple really. When someone walks around chemical traces will stick to their shoes. It is almost like a fingerprint or a passport. We will be able to see everywhere he's been."

He dropped the first sample in a test tube and watched it dissolve into a yellow fluid. He gave a part of it to Molly so she could put it in analysis, the other part he put onder the microscope. "Chalk." He concluded. The next sample turned up dissolved and left small black particles that turned out to be Asphalt. A quick test proved that the oil also included Brick Dust and vegetation. However the next particle was a bit more challenging. As his mind ran through the data, a part of him returned to the conversation he'd had with Moriarty. Finally the results were in. Glycerol… That was curious and possibly useful. He must have muttered something because suddenly Molly was at his side again and started a conversation.

"What does it mean? _I owe you?"_ his eyes automatically searched for his friend, making sure that he didn't hear the conversation that was about to come. "You said that. _I owe you._ You were muttering it while you were working." "Nothing." He waved her off. "Just a mental note." His hope that she'd just drop it disappeared when she continued. "You are a bit like my dad. He is dead. I'm sorry." She smiled nervously which only annoyed him further. "Molly, please don't try to make small talk. It really isn't your strong suit."

Most of the time a hard remark like that scared her off but she insisted. "When he was dying, he was always cheerful, he was always cheerful." Oh god now, he could see where this was headed. "Except when he thought that no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad…" "Molly." He tried to warn her against continuing. "You look sad. When you think they can't see you." Again his eyes found John before his brain could protest. "Are you okay? And don't just say you that you are." She managed to cut him off before he had said something. "Because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you."

"You can see me." "I don't count." He realised that Elizabeth would be angry if he let the woman put herself down like that. John too probably, but being kind was tiring and he wanted the conversation to end. "What I'm trying to say is that if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I just mean. I mean. If there is anything you need. It is fine." Confusion crossed his thoughts for a second, what did she have that he could need? "But what could I need from you?"

Cleary that was the wrong thing to say. "Nothing, I don't know. But you could probably say thank you or something." Again he didn't understand, she hadn't actually done anything. "Thank you." He hesitated a little. "I'm just going to get some more crisps. Do you want anything? It's okay. I know you don't." Molly was already leaving, he probably need to at least try to fix whatever had just gone wrong. "Well, actually, maybe I'll." "I know you don't." and she was gone. He couldn't do anything right.

He shrugged the weirdness off and returned his attention to his work but this time John interrupted him. "Sherlock? This envelope that was in the truck. There is another one." Now this caught his attention. "What?" "On our doorstep. I wanted to tell you but then Lestrade came in and I forgot." A part of him cursed Johns mind, but he couldn't help it. The doctor pulled an envelope out of his jacket and brought it to him. "Yes, it is exactly the same. It has the same seal."

When he opened it the only thing inside where dried breadcrumbs. "It was there when I got there. That was nothing else inside." Realisation struck him and he couldn't help but feel another wave of joy. "A little trace of breadcrumbs, hardback copy of a fairy tales. Two children led into a forest by a wicked father. Follow the trail of breadcrumbs." "That is Hansel and Gretel." John had caught up. "What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?" "The sort that likes to gloat. The sort that thinks it is all a game." Time for John to find out about his peculiar tea party form a couple of weeks ago.

"He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to me. _All fairy tales need a good old fashion villain._ The fifth substance. It is part of the fairy tale. The witch's house." John was still stuck on what he had just said, so he had a little more time. "The glycerol molecule. PGPR! It is used to make chocolate!" he grabbed his coat and started to leave the lab. "Wait a second!" there we go. "He was in our flat! Moriarty? When? Why didn't you tell me?" Sherlock stopped and sighed a little. "Right after the trial. I figured he'd get out and that he'd come to me afterwards. He wanted to prove that he could go and stand where ever he wanted. That is why I didn't want you to come home directly after."

"You should have told me!" "The less you know the safer you are." "Safe? Moriarty was in our flat! How safe can we be?" "This isn't why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd freak out and panic." "Because it is something worth panicking about!" "I have everything under controle." "Clearly!" the man waved his hand around the room. "You should have told me!" he continued out the door. "We are losing time. We need to get to Lestrade." "Sherlock!" "What do you want me to say? Sorry? Because I am not John. Now do you want to help save these kids or continue this discussion." Rage ran through is face but he shut up and pushed pass him.

He didn't need John to be happy. He just needed John by his side and he needed John to trust him, not to like him. The man fiddled with his phone the entire drive, clearly contemplating whether or not he should warn Elizabeth. Sherlock himself kept his gaze on the scenery that rolled past of his window, point fully ignoring his friend's angry gaze.

The tension had grown so much that even Sherlock recognized how awkward it all was and was happy when they finally arrive. John followed him from the distance. "Lestrade." He called out. The officer popped his head out of his office. "We are looking for an old abandoned building surrounded by chalk, red brick, asphalt, vegetation and chocolate." "What now?" "Probably an old sweet factory. The bricks are probably from the 1950s. That is where the kids are."

The man nodded before suddenly remembering. "This just came in." there was a large piece of paper with an elegant handwritten message. _Hurry up they are dying._ 'Well that is encouraging." Lestrade had already dropped in front of his computer, puzzled by Sherlock's hint. "How are we going to find that in time?" "Don't worry I already put my people on it." he opened his phone and started to flick through several images. "Your people?" "Homeless network. Are a lot faster and a lot easier to take bribes."

There was silence for a couple of seconds as both men looked for the possible locations while their companions waited for orders. The silence was broken by Sherlock's satisfied hum. "Addlestone. There is a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. Rhododendron ponticums everywhere. It has to be there." Lestrade grabbed his coat and signalled for his officers to follow him as he himself ran after Sherlock and John who'd disappeared out of the door.

The sirens roared as they hurried through the streets. Sherlock felt excitement course through him as the old buildings doomed up in front of them. Now that they were on the field however Lestrade took back over. "Look everywhere! Find them!" the old buildings were covered in dust and everything looked damp and rusty. A recently lit candle stood in the middle of one of the corridors. A couple of candy wrappers were spread around it and Sherlock picked it up carefully. "Hansel and Gretel." John mentioned as the detective sniffed and licked the dirty wrapper. Out of reflex his face turned foul. "Mercury." He stated and Lestrade frowned.

"The papers were coated with it. The chocolate was contaminated. The more they ate the quicker they died. Their kidnapper is probably long gone." he tried to hid his grin from his colleges but a sharp poke between his ribs showed that John had seen. A cry alerted them to the fact that the kids were found. They were in horrible condition, the youngest of them was practically in a coma.

The kids were lead of to the hospital and the rest of them returned to the police station.


End file.
